DOODLES 


rnia 
1 


EMMA  C.  DOWD 


(Emma  €.  SDotofc 


DOODLES.     Illustrated  in  color. 

THE   OWL  AND   THE    BOBOLINK.   Il- 
lustrated. 

POULY  OF   LADY  GAY  COTTAGE.    Il- 
lustrated in  color. 

POLLY   OF    THE     HOSPITAL    STAFF 
Illustrated  in  color. 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 


DOODLES 


(Page  4!l) 
HE   WAS   NEVER  LONELY   WHEN   HE  COULD  SING 


DOODLES 

The  Sunshine  Boy 


BY 

EMMA   C.   DOWD 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS 
BY  MARIA   L.   KIRK 


BOSTON   AND   NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

(£be  ftiliersitie  press  Cambrit>0e 
1915 


COPYRIGHT,    1915,   BY   EMMA  C.   DOWD 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 

Published  April  iqty 


TO 

MY  PHYSICIAN  AND   FRIEND 
EDWARD  THOMAS  BRADSTREET,  M.D. 


2227839 


CONTENTS 

I.  THE  BARGAIN  1 

II.  CARUSO  10 

III.  THE  ROBBERY  ON  THE  TOP  FLOOR  19 

IV.  DOODLES  TURNS  MATCHMAKER  36 
V.   CARUSO  AND  DOCTOR  SANDY  43 

VI.  GRANDPA  MOON  COMES  TO  TOWN  49 

VII.  A  FRIEND  FROM  GREECE  64 

VIII.  THE  STRIKE  71 

IX.  THOMAS  FITZPATRICK'S  WHISTLE  81 

X.  "COMFORT  YE,  COMFORT  YE  MY  PEOPLE"   99 

XI.  THE  PASSING  OF  THE  DANCER  116 

XII.   THE  HEART  OF  THE  FLATIRON  129 

XIII.  "JiM's  FIDDLE"  133 

XIV.  THE  LETTER  140 
XV.  HOSPITAL  DAYS  146 

XVI.  CARUSO  SINGS  IN  PUBLIC  159 

XVII.  A  THUNDERBOLT  177 

XVIII.  "THE  TRUE-BLUEST  BOY"  189 

XIX.  JOSEPH  SITNITSKY  PROVES  HIS  VALOR       201 

vii 


CONTENTS 

XX.  DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES  212 

XXI.  SURPRISING  NEWS  238 

XXII.  THE  COMFORTING  OP  EUDORA  FLEMING  245 

XXIII.  "THE  MIRACLE  VOICE"  267 

XXIV.  DOODLES  KEEPS  ON  279 
XXV.  IN  FAIR  HARBOR  291 

XXVI.  "DR.  POLLY"  307 

XXVII.  "AULD  LANG  SYNE"  325 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

HE   WAS  NEVER   LONELY   WHEN  HE   COULD   SING 

(page  49)  Frontispiece 

"I   THOUGHT  YOU  WOULD   LIKE  IT"  16 

ONE  STORMY  EVENING  HE  BEGAN  TO  PLAY  144 

"  IT  WOULD  KILL  DOODLES  TO  GIVE  UP  CARUSO  "     260 


DOODLES 

CHAPTER  I 

THE    BARGAIN 

FRAGMENTS  of  the  auctioneer's  entreaties 
floated  through  the  open  doorway  of  the  bird 
shop  and,  above  the  rattle  and  roar  of  the 
street,  clacked  in  Blue's  ears. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemens  .  .  .  beautiful 
lark  .  .  .  emperor  of  singers  .  .  .  not  swell 
to  look  at,  but  .  .  .  Only  twenty  cents!  — 
Twenty-two  am  I  offered?  .  .  .  shame,  ladies 
and  gentlemens!"  And  so  on,  in  tones  of 
pleading  and  mild  complaint. 

Blue,  meanwhile,  studied  the  placarded 
window,  where  all  manner  of  feathered  stock, 
"  slightly  damaged,  but  every  bird  a  bargain," 
was  announced  to  be  sold  to  the  highest  bidder. 

"  Lovely  starling  .  .  .  ladies  and  gentle- 
mens, .  .  .  how  much?  "  the  persuasive  voice 
skipped  on,  but  was  rudely  interrupted  by 
another. 


DOODLES 

"Huntin'  fer  bargains?"  A  boy  of  Blue's 
own  size  nudged  him  in  the  back.  ' '  Why  don't 
yer  go  in  'n'  git  one  fer  Doodles?  'T  'u'd 
keep  him  f'm  bein'  down  'n'  dumpy.  My 
aunt  - 

'"Down  'n'  dumpy'  — Doodles!"  Blue's 
rallying  laugh  drowned  the  ''ladies  and  gentle- 
mens ' '  drifting  through  the  doorway.  ' '  Huh, " 
he  chuckled,  "guess  yer  don't  know  Doodles ! " 

"  Ain't  he,  now?  S'posed  all  sick  folks  was. 
My  aunt  she  — 

"Doodles  dumpy!"  The  boy's  shoulders 
shook  again.  "Why,  if  there  was  nothin'  left 
in  the  whole  world  but  just  barbers'  poles, 
Doodles  'u'd  sure  make  friends  with  the 
stripes.  And  he'd  have  the  best  time  ever  — 
bet  you  he  would!"  Blue's  hard  little  face 
grew  suddenly  tender,  as  he  thought  of  the 
brother  whose  life  was  all  pain  and  all  joy. 

The  auction  was  over.  The  crowd  poured 
out  into  the  noisy  street.  Here  and  there  a 
bird-cage  told  that  a  lame  canary,  a  blind 
bobolink,  or  some  other  "damaged"  fluff  of 
feathers  had  changed  owners. 

One  of  the  purchasers,  a  small,  hatless  girl, 
clad  in  scowls  and  a  lace-collared  coat,  halted 


THE   BARGAIN 

when  she  saw  Blue,  and  began  recklessly  to 
swing  her  cage. 

"Here,  you  Mame  Sweeney!"  the  boy 
cried,  seizing  the  child's  arm;  "don't  yer  see 
you're  scarin'  that  bird  'most  to  death?" 

"Le'  go!"  she  snapped.  "'T  ain't  yours!" 
She  wrenched  herself  free,  and  defiantly 
thrashed  the  cage  about  her  knees. 

"Stop  it ! "  The  girl  found  her  hand  gripped 
in  a  vise  of  muscles. 

"Le'  me  be!"  she  screamed.  "Don't  care 
if  I  do  scare  him!  Horrid  old  thing!" 

A  little  group  of  newsboys  circled  about 
them,  eager  for  a  closer  view  of  the  cause  of 
the  wrangle. 

The  ragged  gray  bird,  panting  on  the  floor 
of  his  prison,  did  not  invite  favor.  There  was 
a  subdued  chorus  of  grunts  and  ejaculations. 
Then  disapproval  burst  into  bantering  speech. 

"Ain't  he  a  dood!"  —  "Mame,  wha'  'd 
yer  pay  fer  th'  beaut?"  —  "Whin  '11  he  give  a 
concert?"  -  "Sure,  if  he  sings  like  he  looks, 
he '11  bate  th' show!" 

The  girl  frowned  on  the  teasing  lads. 

"How  could  I  see  him  in  all  that  jam!"  she 
pouted.  "The  man  said  he  was  swell,  and 
3 


DOODLES 

could  sing  like  everything.  Anyhow,  I  got 
him  for  seventeen  cents!" 

" Swell!"  Blue  let  go  a  whistle.  Yet  he 
gazed  pityingly  at  the  poor,  draggled  thing  in 
the  cage. 

"You  could  n't  to  know  nothin'  'bout  him 
the  while  he's  got  fraids,"  apologized  Joseph 
Sitnitsky.  "He  be  a  awful  stylish  kind." 
Joseph's  uncle  was  half-proprietor  of  the  bird 
shop. 

As  if  encouraged  by  this  friendly  comment, 
the  bird  tentatively  cast  an  eye  upward,  and 
then  hopped  to  his  perch.  But  if  he  had  hoped 
by  this  act  to  win  kindlier  words,  the  effort 
failed.  Scorn  swept  the  circle.  The  Bargain 
was  disgracefully  dirty,  his  left  wing  hung 
limp  at  his  side,  his  bill  was  nicked,  and  his 
tail  was  reduced  to  three  ragged  feathers. 

"Aw,  he's  worser'n  a  muddy  sparrer!  Out 
him,  Mame,  an'  done  with  it!" 

"You  could  to  have  nice  feelings  over  him, 
und  maybe  sometime  he  sings,"  mildly  remon- 
strated the  loyal  nephew  of  Abraham  Sitnitsky. 

But  nobody  heeded  the  plaintive  voice,  and 
the  girl,  chagrined  at  the  loss  of  her  money 
and  exasperated  by  the  jeers  of  the  boys, 
4 


THE  BARGAIN 

seemed  about  to  follow  Pete's  dismal  advice, 
when  Blue  Stickney  interposed. 

"I'll  give  yer  a  quarter  for  him!" 

Staying  her  reckless  hand,  Mame  stared. 

"Honest?"  she  scowled. 

The  boy  was  already  counting  out  the  sum 
from  his  meager  handful  of  small  coins,  and  in 
a  moment  the  gray  bird  had  again  changed 
owners. 

As  Blue  started  up  the  steep  stairs  to  the 
top  floor  of  The  Flatiron,  he  wished  it  had 
been  possible  to  give  his  purchase  a  bath  be- 
fore revealing  it  to  the  keen  eyes  of  Doodles; 
but  then  the  little  brother  would  have  had 
just  so  much  less  of  happy  ministration  for  his 
pet.  For,  of  course,  the  bird  would  belong  to 
Doodles.  There  had  never  been  any  other 
thought  of  it  in  Blue's  mind. 

Down  the  dun  stairway  floated  a  strain  of 
melody,  and  it  told  the  boy  agreeable  news,  — 
that  his  mother  had  come  home  and  was  get- 
ting dinner,  that  things  had  gone  well  at  the 
big  shop  where  she  worked,  and  that  the  little 
brother  was  not  suffering  from  the  "bad  spell " 
which  had  threatened  in  the  morning.  Mrs. 
Stickney  rarely  sang  when  Doodles  was  in  un- 

5 


DOODLES 

usual  pain,  and  if  she  did  it  was  not  in  so  brisk 
a  voice. 

The  song  grew  clearer,  the  words  came  dis- 
tinctly now. 

."  Je — ru — sa — lem,  the  gold — en, 

With  milk  and  hon — ey  blest! 
Be — neath  thy  contempla — tion 

Sink  heart  and  voice  oppressed: 
I  know  not,  oh,  I  know  not, 

What  holy  joys  are  there, 
What  ra — dian — cy  of  glo — ry, 

What  light  beyond  compare. 

"  They  stand,  those  halls  of  Zi — on, 
All  ju— bi— lant—  " 

Blue  opened  the  kitchen  door,  and  as  he 
stepped  from  the  dusky  hallway  to  the  sunlit 
room,  a  sudden  mellow  trill  struck  into  the 
song. 

This  tuneful  greeting  quite  caught  away  the 
boy's  remembrance  of  the  little  speech  of  pres- 
entation with  which  he  had  thought  to  amuse 
his  brother,  and  Doodles,  his  eyes  big  with 
wonder  and  delight,  stretched  out  both  hands 
towards  the  unkempt  singer. 

"O — h!  is  he  ours?"  he  cried. 

Blue  nodded. 

"To  keep  forever?" 

6 


THE  BARGAIN 

Another  nod. 

"Isn't  he  a  darling!"  breathed  the  little 
occupant  of  the  pillowed  chair,  when  the  bat- 
tered cage  was  placed  beside  him.  He  threw 
one  arm  around  the  small  prison,  and  leaned 
lovingly  over  it. 

The  bird  cocked  an  eye  upward,  and  ven- 
tured another  trill. 

"He's  just  beautiful!"  piped  Doodles  in 
ecstasy. 

After  that  who  could  dare  to  make  unflat- 
tering remarks  about  the  singer?  Certainly 
not  Doodles's  mother,  so  with  a  happy  light 
on  her  face  she  continued  her  work  of  prepar- 
ing dinner. 

In  The  Flatiron  news  flew  fast.  Even  before 
Mrs.  Stickney's  potatoes  had  fried  brown,  up 
the  stairs  puffed  Granny  O'Donnell  on  her 
rheumatic  old  legs,  bringing  the  deserted 
home  of  her  long-mourned-for  Canary  Dick, 
who  had  flown  away  from  Cherry  Street  six 
years  ago. 

With  a  joyful  whiff  the  Bargain  took  pos- 
session of  his  roomier  quarters,  and,  despite 
his  drooping  wing,  pranced  about  on  the 
perches. 

7 


DOODLES 

"See  how  happy  he  is!"  laughed  Doodles, 
clapping  his  little  thin  hands.  "He  is  saying 
thank-you!" 

Then,  perhaps  because  his  new  master  had 
suggested  the  returning  of  thanks,  the  slim 
gray  bird,  with  a  little  captivating  prelude, 
broke  into  a  torrent  of  melody  such  as  Canary 
Dick  with  his  limited  powers  had  never 
dreamed  of. 

"Shure,  an'  he  must  'a'  coome  sthraight 
f'm  hiven!"  gasped  Granny  O'Donnell,  as  the 
last  note  dropped  into  silence. 

Blue  stood,  big-eyed,  in  the  pantry  door- 
way, arrested  in  his  hunt  for  a  suitable  bath- 
tub for  the  singer;  the  mother  quite  forgot  her 
scorching  potatoes;  and  Doodles  himself,  with 
both  arms  around  the  cage,  crooned  words  of 
endearment  in  the  ears  of  the  little  songster. 

Granny  O'Donnell's  astonishing  reports 
of  Blue's  twenty-five-cent  purchase  spread 
through  the  big  tenement  house,  until  old 
and  young  tripped  or  hobbled  up  to  the  top 
floor  to  see  the  surprising  handful  of  feathers 
that  could  "sing  loike  a  blissid  a-angil."  A 
long  bath  and  a  still  longer  toilet  in  the  sun 
brought  the  ragged  Bargain  to  something  like 

8 


sleekness,  and  he  began  the  promise  of  making 
good  his  little  master's  first  praise.  On  rainy 
days,  when  shut-in  neighbors  were  apt  to  be 
neighborly  and  numerous,  the  gray  bird  some- 
times sulked  on  the  end  of  his  perch  and  re- 
fused to  sing,  possibly  too  strongly  reminded 
of  his  dismal  surroundings  in  the  bird  shop. 
But  as  soon  as  the  sunshine  returned  he  would 
promptly  forget  the  past  and  graciously  dis- 
play his  wonderful  gift  to  all  that  came. 


CHAPTER  II 

CARUSO 

A  WEIGHTY  problem  was  puzzling  the  Stick- 
ney  family.  What  should  be  the  gray  bird's 
name?  Doodles  was  growing  nervous  under 
the  reiterated  question,  "What  yer  goin'  to 
call  him?  "  Every  visitor  had  a  name  to  offer, 
but  the  matter  was  not  of  easy  disposal. 

"I  know  Mis'  Homan  thinks  I  ought  to  call 
him  Cherry,"  observed  the  little  owner  plain- 
tively; "but  how  can  I!  He  is  n't  one.  And 
there's  Granny!  Do  you  s'pose  she'll  feel 
awful  bad  if  I  don't  name  him  Dicky?  If  't 
was  n't  for  Dicky  Fyt  —  but  't  is!  And  his 
mother  callin'  and  callin'  him  all  day  long! 
How  'd  anybody  know  which  she  meant?  " 

"Huh,"  snorted  Blue,  "guess  we  shan't 
name  him  after  that  kid  —  not  much!" 

"And  now  Mis'  George,"  Doodles  resumed, 
"I'm  afraid  she's  mad.  She  was  in  here  with 
the  baby,  this  afternoon,  and  she  tried  to 
make  me  promise  to  call  him  Evangeline, 

10 


CARUSO 

after  her.  I  kep'  tellin'  her  he  was  n't  a  girl; 
but  she  did  n't  seem  to  think  that  made  any 
difference.  I  s'pose  it's  a  pretty  name;  but 
you  would  n't  want  it,  would  you,  for  him?" 
The  tone  was  anxious. 

"Gracious,  no!"  was  the  emphatic  answer. 
"Name  him  after  that  George  squaller!" 
Blue  chuckled  with  the  thought. 

Doodles  laughed  a  little  in  sympathy,  and 
surveyed  his  brother  with  admiration.  Blue 
was  always  so  satisfying. 

At  breakfast,  next  morning,  the  important 
question  was  again  taken  up. 

"Dear  me!"  complained  the  mother,  "I 
hope  that  bird  will  get  a  name  pretty  soon;  we 
can't  seem  to  talk  of  anything  else." 

Blue  laughed  confidently.  "He'll  have  one 
before  night,  sure !  I  'm  goin'  to  think  of  some- 
thin'  fine  to-day." 

"Goin'  —  somethin' ! "  repeated  Mrs.  Stick- 
ney  with  a  patient  sigh.  "What  would  your 
grandfather  say  to  hear  that !  With  him  keep- 
ing the  district  school  for  two  years  before  he 
was  married,  I  tell  you,  we  children  had  to 
stand  round!  No  cutting  words  short  where 
he  was!" 

11 


DOODLES 

"Glad  I  wasn't  there!"  grinned  Blue. 

"You'd  have  been  a  good  deal  better  off 
than  you  are  now,"  his  mother  asserted.  "If 
I  did  n't  have  to  work  in  the  shop,  I  believe 
I'd  keep  you  home  from  school,  and  teach 
you  myself,  till  you  could  talk  decently." 

"You  ought  to  hear  the  other  boys," 
laughed  Blue. 

"That's  what's  the  trouble.  Doodles  is 
catching  it  from  you,  and  does  n't  speak 
nearly  as  well  as  he  used  to.  I  wish  you  had 
better  companions."  She  drew  a  long,  regret- 
ful breath.  "Well,  do  try,  both  of  you,  to 
remember  your  i-n-g's." 

"Oh!  what  dif  does  it  make?"  returned 
Blue  easily. 

"Child!  dif!  —  There's  the  whistle!" 

Correct  speech  was  quite  forgotten,  as  Mrs. 
Stickney  hurried  off  to  the  big  silver  shop, 
leaving  the  boys  to  finish  their  breakfast  in 
leisure.  They  did  not  at  once  go  back  to  the 
question  they  had  been  discussing;  but  while 
the  elder  brother  was  washing  the  dishes 
Doodles  started  it  again. 

"What  made  you  be  so  sure  Birdie  'd  have 
a  name  by  night?"  the  small  boy  queried. 
12 


CARUSO 

"Oh,  I  do'  know!"  Blue  smiled,  pausing  to 
pour  a  dipper  of  hot  water  over  the  soapy  cups 
and  plates. 

"Seems  sometimes 's  if  he  never  would," 
Doodles  put  in  with  a  wee  sigh. 

"Oh,  I  haven't  half  tried  yet!"  resumed 
the  other.  "Don't  you  worry  one  mite,  old 
feller!  Ther'  's  lots  o'  dandy  names,  if  I  could 
only  think  of  'em,  and  I  'm  goin'  —  going  to 
do  my  honor  best  to-day,  sure!" 

Doodles  laughed  softly,  to  accompany  his 
brother's  louder  chuckle,  and  rested  in  the 
promise,  for,  as  he  had  reason  to  know,  Blue's 
"honor  best"  was  apt  to  be  very  good,  in- 
deed; and  when  he  was  left  alone  he  and  the 
gray  bird  had  a  long  confidential  talk.  It  was 
satisfactory,  too,  for  although  words  were 
only  on  one  side  Doodles  would  have  told 
you  that  the  bird  surely  understood  all  that 
was  said  to  him.  Did  n't  he  cock  his  little 
head,  and  make  soft,  musical  replies!  And 
when  he  was  assured  that  he  would  soon 
have  a  name  of  his  very  own,  "just  like  other 
folks,"  did  n't  he  actually  dash  off  a  brand- 
new  song  that  left  his  hearer  gasping  with 
delight! 

13 


DOODLES 

Yet  it  was  not  Blue  that  first  arrived  with 
the  name. 

Some  of  the  top-floor  lodgers  had  to  pass 
the  door  of  the  Stickney  kitchen  on  their  way 
up  and  down  stab's.  Among  them  was  a  re- 
cent comer  to  whom  Doodles  had  taken  a 
strong  liking,  —  a  young  girl,  small,  red- 
cheeked,  and  curly-haired,  who  had  smiled  a 
prompt  answer  to  his  first  friendly  "Hello!" 
The  next  day  she  had  stepped  inside,  to  give 
him  a  flower  from  the  little  bunch  she  carried, 
and  then  had  lingered  a  moment  to  hear  the 
gray  bird  sing.  The  boy  had  quickly  learned 
her  step,  because  of  a  slight  lameness,  and  he 
came  to  watch  for  her  as  soon  as  the  noon 
whistles  blew,  and  was  disappointed  when  she 
went  elsewhere  for  dinner.  He  felt  that  he  had 
a  kind  of  fellowship  with  her  on  account  of  her 
defect,  and  he  longed  really  to  know  her.  To- 
day he  was  listening  for  her  halting  footfall 
even  before  she  had  had  time  to  reach  The 
Flatiron.  He  had  not  learned  where  she 
worked;  but  he  conjectured  that  it  must  be 
either  at  the  knitting  mill  or  the  box  factory. 
His  mother  was  full  ten  minutes  in  walking 
down  from  the  silver  shop,  and  the  girl  usually 
14 


CARUSO 

reached  home  at  least  five  minutes  earlier.  If 
she  shouldn't  come  at  all  this  noon!  He 
wanted  to  tell  her  that  his  pet  was  really  going 
to  have  a  name,  for  had  n't  Blue  said  so ! 
There  she  was  now!  Nearer  and  nearer  drew 
the  uneven  steps.  Doodles  waited  excitedly 
for  the  first  glimpse  of  her  dark  blue  dress. 

"Hello!"  he  called.  "Please,  will  you—" 
She  was  coming,  even  before  the  invitation 
was  given! 

"What  is  it,  little  sweetheart?"  Dimples 
were  playing  about  the  ruddy  lips. 

"I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  my  bird  is  going 
to  have  a  name  —  to-day!" 

"Of  course,  he  is!  I've  brought  it!" 

"You?" 

"Yes,  I  found  it  right  on  the  street." 

"Oh!  — how?— what?"  Doodles  bent  for- 
ward in  his  eagerness. 

"I  saw  it  on  the  billboards  down  by  the 
theater;  it's  the  name  of  a  great  singer, — 
Caruso." 

The  child  brought  his  little  hands  together 
with  a  soft  breath  of  delight.  "Isn't  that 
beautiful!  —  Caruso!  I've  been  wishin'  it 
would  sound  like  music  —  and  it  does!" 

15 


DOODLES 

"I  thought  you'd  like  it,"  she  nodded. 

"It  is  lovely!  Won't  Blue  be  glad!  Oh, 
Birdie  dear,  you've  got  a  name!  you've  got  a 
name!"  leaning  over  the  cage,  which  stood 
always  within  his  reach.  "  Caruso  —  Caruso ! 
Do  you  like  it,  dear?" 

The  gray  bird  stopped  pruning  his  feathers, 
glanced  archly  at  his  little  master,  and  with  a 
few  joyous  whistles  broke  into  one  of  his  cap- 
tivating songs. 

"He  is  a  wonderful  singer,"  praised  the 
girl.  "I've  been  wishing  I  could  go  to  hear 
Caruso;  I'll  have  to  come  and  hear  this  one 
instead." 

"Yes,  do  come  —  any  time!"  urged  Doo- 
dles. "But  why  don't  you  go  and  hear  the 
other,  if  you  want  to?" 

The  girl  laughed.  "It  costs  money,  sweet- 
heart." Her  blue  eyes  grew  wistful.  "Every- 
thing nice  costs  money."  She  turned  to  go. 

"  I  'm  ever  and  ever  so  much  obliged  to  you 
for  the  name,"  Doodles  hastened  to  say.  "I 
don't  know  yours,"  he  suggested. 

She  had  come  back,  and  was  looking  down 
at  him,  a  half-smile  on  her  pretty  lips. 

"No,  you  don't,  do  you! "  she  replied  gayly. 

16 


'I  THOUGHT  YOU  WOULD  LIKE  IT" 


CARUSO 

"It  is  Dorothy"  —  a  shadow  passed  over  the 
bright  face  —  "Rose." 

"What  a  pretty  name!"  chirped  Doodles. 
"I'm  so  glad  you  told  me." 

"You  can  call  me  Dolly,  if  you  like;  some 
folks  do.  Grandpa  always  does  —  did,"  she 
corrected. 

"Oh,  I'd  love  to!"  began  the  child;  but  the 
girl  was  already  in  the  hall,  and  she  did  not 
look  back. 

At  the  instant  Blue  dashed  up  the  stairs 
with  a  clatter. 

"I've  got  the  dandiest  name  for  you!"  he 
burst  out. 

"Oh!  "cried  Doodles. 

"You  never  could  guess!"  grinned  his 
brother. 

"Caruso ! "  piped  the  small  boy  with  sudden 
intuition. 

"How'n  the  world  — "  Blue's  face  fell  in 
amazement. 

Doodles  clapped  his  hands  gleefully.  "You 
thought  I  could  n't  guess,  and  he 's  got  it 
already!" 

Blue  laughed  in  sheer  sympathy  with  his 
brother's  joy. 

17 


DOODLES 

"But  how?"  he  queried. 

" Dolly  brought  it  —  she"  (pointing  to- 
wards the  girl's  door)  —  "  Dolly  Rose." 

Mrs.  Stickney  came  just  in  time  to  hear  the 
story  of  the  new  name,  and  the  dinner  hour 
was  full  of  unusual  chatter  and  mirth. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  ROBBERY  ON  THE  TOP  FLOOR 

AFTER  his  mother  had  returned  to  the  fac- 
tory, and  his  brother  to  school,  Doodles  found 
himself  somewhat  weary  from  the  small  ex- 
citement, and  shortly  he  fell  asleep. 

The  kitchen  was  very  still.  Stairway  and 
hall  were  empty;  the  occupants  of  the  top 
floor  worked  outside,  and  would  not  be  home 
until  six  o'clock.  Only  dull  sounds  came  from 
the  stories  below.  Even  Caruso  drowsed  on 
his  perch.  Moments,  hours,  were  ticked  off  by 
the  little  brown  clock  on  the  shelf;  yet  Doo- 
dles did  not  awake. 

At  last  somebody  crept  stealthily  up  the 
steep  stairs.  A  girl  in  a  lace-collared  coat 
peered  round  the  corner  of  the  doorway,  and 
as  she  saw  the  sleeping  boy  her  beady  eyes 
gleamed  with  triumph.  Noiselessly  she 
crossed  the  room,  and  reached  out  a  hand  to 
snatch  the  bird  cage;  but  her  quick  movement 
roused  the  little  prisoner,  and  he  began  to 

19 


DOODLES 

flutter  wildly.  For  an  instant  the  girl  hesi- 
tated, glancing  at  Doodles,  and  the  lad  came 
to  himself  with  a  sharp  cry. 

Quickly  realizing  that  his  pet  was  in  danger, 
he  grasped  the  cage  as  she  seized  it,  clinging 
to  it  manfully;  but  with  brutal  force  she 
wrested  his  frail  fingers  from  their  hold,  and 
put  herself  and  her  booty  beyond  his  reach. 

"  I '  11  learn  ye ! "  she  snarled .  "It's  my  bird 
—  't  ain't  yours!  There's  yer  old  money!" 
She  flung  a  quarter  on  the  table.  It  rolled 
away,  and  off  to  the  floor;  but  she  did  not  stop 
to  pick  it  up.  "  Blue  Stick'  knew  I  was  only  in 
fun  when  I  let  him  take  it,  and  he  'd  oughter 
brought  it  right  back;  everybody  says  so.  Ye 
kin  tell  him  he  need  n't  sneak  round  tryin'  ter 
git  th'  bird  again,  fer  he  can't  have  it!" 

She  was  disappearing  in  the  doorway  before 
the  dazed  boy  burst  into  speech. 

"Come  back!  come  back!"  he  shrieked. 
"It's  mine!  Bring  it  back!  oh,  bring  it  back !" 

But  his  only  answer  was  a  little  flouting 
laugh  and  the  mad  whir  of  wings  against  the 
wires. 

"Oh,  Birdie!  Birdie!"  piteously  called  the 
child,  the  familiar  name  coming  to  his  lips  in 

20 


THE  ROBBERY  ON  THE  TOP  FLOOR 

place  of  the  new  one,  and  as  the  fleeing  foot- 
steps on  the  stairs  were  lost  'he  dropped  back 
among  his  pillows  with  a  great  sob.  "Dear 
Birdie!"  he  moaned,  "my  precious  Birdie!" 

In  that  moment  despair  seized  his  soul.  If 
only  he  could  have  pursued  to  save  his  pet! 
But,  ah!  his  feet  had  forgotten  how  to  walk, 
and  all  at  once  realizing  his  utter  helplessness 
he  put  his  hands  to  his  face  and  shed  the  first 
bitter  tears  of  his  joyous  life. 

Then,  with  a  suddenness  that  caught  away 
his  breath,  came  the  pain,  —  the  ugly  pain 
which  for  weeks  had  held  itself  so  far  off  that 
he  had  almost  forgotten  how  cruel  it  could  be, 
and  now  he  groaned  with  the  torture  of  it. 

So  his  brother  found  him,  white  and  sob- 
bing. 

"What's  up,  kiddie?"  Blue  knelt  beside 
him,  and  took  the  cold  little  hands  in  his  own. 
"Tell  me,  old  feller!  Is't  the  big  pain?" 

The  child  nodded.  For  a  moment  he  could 
do  no  more.  Anguish  held  the  words  back. 

"Birdie's  —  gone!"  he  finally  sobbed  out. 

"Gone?"  Blue  stared  around.  "Where  is 
he?" 

"She  took  him!  —  the  girl!" 

21 


DOODLES 

"The  girl?  That  Dolly—" 

"No,  no !  —  a  little  —  girl !  —  She  left  some 
money  —  there!"  He  pointed  feebly  in  the 
direction  of  the  coin. 

A  fierce  light  flamed  in  Blue's  puzzled  face. 
"Did  she  have  on  a  big  lace  collar?" 

"Yes." 

"Mame  Sweeney!  —  confounded  little 
cuss!" 

Doodles  gazed  at  him  with  horrified  eyes. 

"Don't  care!  —  she  is!  —  makin'  you  feel 
like  this!  Tell  me  about  it,  kiddie !  Or  no,  I'll 
get  some  medicine  first." 

Blue  was  accustomed  to  these  sudden  at- 
tacks, and  brought  a  glass  of  the  remedy  which 
was  always  at  hand.  Bit  by  bit  he  gained  the 
story,  and  he  was  swift  at  a  decision. 

"I'll  go  straight  down  there,  and  get  the 
bird!" 

"She  won't  let  you  have  it!"  wailed  Doo- 
dles. "She  said  so!" 

"Just  a  bluff,  old  feller!  S'pose  I'm  goin'  to 
let  Mame  Sweeney  down  me?  Not  much!" 

"If  I'd  only  been  —  been  like  you!" 
mourned  the  child.  "And  Caruso  won't  know 
why  I  did  n't  jump  up  and  run  after  him!  I 
22 


THE  ROBBERY  ON  THE  TOP  FLOOR 

guess  his  heart  is  'most  broke,  thinkin'  I  don't 
care." 

"No,  't  ain't,"  declared  Blue.  "Anyway 
you  can  tell  him  all  about  it  when  he 
comes  — " 

Doodles  was  gasping  in  another  agonizing 
spasm,  and  the  elder  boy  sprang  to  his  side 
with  words  of  courage  and  cheer. 

Presently  the  pain  passed,  and  the  brave 
little  sufferer  again  smiled. 

"That  one  was  pretty  hard,"  he  said 
weakly,  as  his  brother  brought  a  second  dose 
of  the  soothing  medicine. 

"Guess  this '11  squelch  it.  Don't  b'lieve  it '11 
come  again."  Blue  set  down  the  empty  glass, 
and  looked  at  the  clock.  In  ten  minutes  the 
evening  papers  would  be  due;  he  ought  to  go 
after  the  bird  at  once;  but  how  could  he  leave 
Doodles?  He  thought  fast. 

"  Should  you  mind  my  going  now,  kiddie,  if 
Granny  will  come  up  and  stay  with  you?  I  Ve 
got  to  deliver  my  papers,  you  know,  and  I 
want  to  make  sure  of  Caruso  first." 

"You  '11  bring  him  home?  " 

"Sure!" 

"All  right!  I  don't  mind  being  alone  — 
23 


DOODLES 

much.  I'd  rather  you'd  go  get  Caruso.  I  feel 
better.  Granny  need  n't  come." 

"Guess  I'll  ask  her,"  Blue  insisted,  and 
bade  his  brother  a  cheery  good-bye.  Yet  as  he 
ran  down  the  stairs  his  face  darkened  and  he 
shut  his  lips  tight.  He  was  thinking  of  his 
errand  round  the  corner. 

"Ye  don't  say!"  exclaimed  the  old  Irish- 
woman, when  the  boy  told  her  briefly  of  the 
robbery  and  Doodles's  consequent  illness. 
"Seem's  if  I'd  'a'  heerd  her  —  bold  little  sar- 
pint!  —  go'n'  right  by  me  dure  with  that  a- 
angil  bur-rd!  Iv  coorse,  I'll  sthay  with  th' 
blissid  child!" 

Dear  Granny  O'Donnell!  From  Christmas 
Day  to  Christmas  Day  she  was  at  her  neigh- 
bors' disposal  with  her  capable  hands,  her 
quick  brain,  and  her  rheumatic  old  legs. 
Whether  it  was  mumps  or  pneumonia,  an 
ailing  kitten  or  a  new  baby,  a  drunken  hus- 
band or  a  dying  child,  —  whatever  the  need, 
Granny  was  always  ready.  Even  now,  before 
Blue  was  well  out  on  the  street  she  was  limp- 
ing up  the  stairs  to  Doodles. 

Just  below  The  Flatiron  stood  Joseph 
Sitnitsky. 

24 


"Hello!"  hailed  Blue.  "  You  're  the  man  I 
want." 

Joseph  smiled  good-naturedly. 

"Say,"  Blue  went  on,  in  a  confidential  tone, 
"I've  got  some  business  on  hand  that  can't 
wait,  and  it 's  'most  time  for  the  paper  to  be  out. 
Would  yer  mind  runnin'  down  to  the  Courant 
office  an'  gittin'  mine?  I  '11  give  yer  the  money," 
drawing  a  small  handful  from  his  pocket. 

"I  will  go,"  agreed  Joseph  solemnly. 
"Will  I  to  bring  them  here?" 

"Oh,  no!"  cried  Blue.  "Just  leave  'em  at 
the  office,  and  say  I  '11  call  for  'em.  I  '11  be  no 
end  obliged." 

"A'  right,"  assented  the  other,  and  trotted 
away. 

You  could  always  trust  Joseph,  and  Blue 
at  once  centered  his  thoughts  on  the  disagree- 
able duty  at  hand.  What  if  they  should  see 
him  coming  and  should  n't  let  him  in?  What 
if  Mame's  big  brother  were  at  home!  What  if 
—  but,  pshaw!  there  was  no  need  of  what-if- 
ing  in  this  way.  It  was  going  to  be  an  easy 
job;  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  walk  in  quietly, 
grab  the  bird,  and  run.  Once  he  had  the  cage 
in  his  hands  there  'd  be  nothing  to  fear,  —  no 

25 


DOODLES 

Sweeney  could  beat  him  in  a  race.  And  if 
there  should  be  any  real  opposition,  was  n't  he 
in  good  fighting  order?  Did  n't  he  whip  a  fel- 
low of  fifteen  this  very  morning  for  teasing  a 
little  clubfooted  boy !  Recollecting  that  pleas- 
ant affair  made  him  feel  equal  to  any  possible 
contest  with  Sweeneys  big  or  little. 

Up  in  the  hallway  of  the  new  brick  block  he 
looked  around  questioningly.  Then  he  risked 
the  first  bell  at  his  right.  A  small  girl  opened 
the  door. 

"Does  Mame  Sweeney  live  here?"  he 
asked  in  a  soft  tone. 

The  child  pointed  directly  across  the  hall, 
and,  thanking  her,  Blue  walked  over  and 
pushed  the  button  indicated. 

Mame  herself  answered  the  summons;  but 
with  her  first  glimpse  of  the  caller  she  at- 
tempted to  shut  the  door.  Blue,  however,  was 
ready,  and  throwing  himself  against  it  pushed 
into  the  room. 

The  girl,  glowering,  darted  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  apartment. 

"That's  yer  manners,  is  it?"  she  jeered. 
"Yer  needn't  think  ye 're  goin'  ter  git  that 
bird  ag'in!" 

26 


THE  ROBBERY  ON  THE  TOP  FLOOR 

"No,  indade!"  broke  in  Mrs.  Sweeney.  "If 
ye  hain't  th'  cheek!  Kapin'  Mame's  bur-rd  all 
this  time,  an'  thin  comin'  afther  it !  Out  with 
ye!  We  don't  want  ye  round!" 

The  boy  threw  back  his  head  defiantly,  and 
pulled  a  quarter  from  his  pocket. 

"That 's  your  money,"  he  cried,  laying  it  on 
the  table;  "but  the  bird's  mine!  I  bought  it 
fair'n'  square!  Mame  was  mighty  glad  to  git 
it  off  her  hands  then,  an'  now  just  because 
you've  heard  that  it  sings  yer  want  it 
back—" 

"Want  it?"  sneered  Mrs.  Sweeney.  "Yis, 
we  want  it  an'  we  've  got  it,  an'  whin  ye  see 
it  ag'in,  jist  pass  me  th'  wurrud!  Now  1'ave, 
will  ye!" 

"I  can  have  you  arrested!"  dared  Blue, 
growing  furious.  "I  will,  too,  if  yer  don't 
bring  out  that  bird!  You  stole  it!  I'll  have 
you  arrested  sure  as  — " 

"Arristid,  is  it?  That's  a  good  wan!  Ar- 
ristid!"  She  laughed  shrilly. 

The  boy's  face  darkened  with  passion.    If 
she  had  been  a  man  he  would  have  sprung  like 
a  tiger  —  but  a  woman!  He  clinched  his  fists 
fiercely  and  held  himself  straight. 
27 


"  Well,  arre  ye  go'n',  ye  little  — 

"No,  not  without  my  bird!"  blazed  the 
boy. 

A  sinister  light  flashed  in  the  woman's  eyes. 

"Mame  dear,"  she  bade  in  oily  tones,  "fitch 
th'  bur-rd!  fitch  th'  bur'rd!" 

The  girl  stared  at  her  mother  an  instant, 
and  then  started  towards  a  closed  door. 

Blue  turned,  and  his  gaze  followed  her 
eagerly. 

In  a  moment  it  was  over.  The  boy  never 
knew  just  how  it  was  done.  But  he  had  been 
caught  in  the  back,  and,  his  arms  close  pin- 
ioned, had  been  lifted  and  hurled  into  the  hall- 
way. As  he  sprang  to  his  feet  the  lock  clicked 
in  the  door,  and  there  was  coarse  laughter. 
Realizing  the  trick,  he  set  his  teeth  in  helpless 
fury. 

"I'll  make  you  pay  for  this!"  he  shouted. 
Then  he  shot  down  the  stairs  to  the  street. 

On  the  sidewalk,  passing  the  entrance, 
marched  a  big  policeman.  Blue's  face  lighted 
in  glad  recognition. 

"Mr.  Fitzpatrick!"  he  called,  "oh,  Mr. 
Fitzpatrick!" 

The  tall  man  turned,  and  smiled  cordially. 

28 


THE  ROBBERY  ON  THE  TOP  FLOOR 

"Hello,  Blue!  What's  up?"  For  the  boy's 
face  showed  unusual  excitement. 

The  story  was  jerkily  told,  but  Thomas 
Fitzpatrick,  with  the  aid  of  an  occasional 
quiet  question,  soon  had  possession  of  the 
principal  facts. 

"  Will  yer  go  right  up  an'  arrest  'em?"  The 
voice  was  eager. 

They  were  walking  slowly  in  the  direction 
of  the  City  Hall,  and  the  officer  glanced  up  at 
the  clock  in  the  tower. 

"Can't  leave  my  beat  now,"  he  answered. 
"I  shall  be  off  duty  in  half  an  hour;  then  we '11 
attend  to  the  case." 

"An'  you'll  arrest  'em,  won't  yer?"  Blue 
insisted. 

A  little  smile  flickered  on  Thomas  Fitz- 
patrick's  broad  face.  "Don't  think  't  will  be 
necessary,"  he  said  in  confident  tone.  "We'll 
git  the  bird." 

"But  they  won't  let  yer  have  it!"  the  boy 
hastened  to  assure  him. 

"You  wait  an'  see!"  laughed  the  officer. 
"You  wait  an'  see!  How's  the  kid  comin' 
on?" 

"  This  has  done  him  all  up.    I  found  him  in 

29 


DOODLES 

one  of  his  dreadful  turns  when  I  came  home 
from  school.  He  thinks  that  bird  is  it,  for 
sure!" 

The  big  man  grew  grave.  "A  shame!"  he 
muttered,  with  a  slow  shake  of  his  head. 
"Poor  little  kid!  But  we'll  have  him  smilin' 
again  before  long.  You  tell  him  Tom  Fitz- 
patrick  will  git  his  bird  for  him,  an'  not  to 
worry  another  mite.  I'll  meet  you  here  in 
half  an  hour,  and  we'll  fix  'em!" 

Blue  bounded  away  to  the  top  floor  of  The 
Flatiron,  and  found  Doodles  deep  in  Granny's 
story  of  her  girlhood  days  in  one  of  old  Ire- 
land's famous  castles.  Nothing  short  of 
Caruso  himself  could  have  brought  the  small 
boy  so  much  joy  as  the  message  of  his  adored 
Thomas  Fitzpatrick;  for  ever  since  the  after- 
noon of  The  Flatiron  fire,  when  Doodles  was 
alone  on  the  fourth  floor  and  the  gallant 
young  Irishman  —  then  a  fireman  —  had 
bounded  up  the  burning  stairs  through  the 
thick  smoke  and  had  carried  the  helpless 
child  down  to  fresh  air  and  safety,  the  name 
of  Fitzpatrick  had  been  an  honored  one  in  the 
Stickney  family. 

Blue's  paper  route  was  raced  over.  Al- 
30 


THE  ROBBERY  ON  THE  TOP  FLOOR 

though  he  was  late  in  starting,  the  last  house 
was  reached  on  time.  He  was  in  front  of  the 
Tobin  Block  a  whole  minute  ahead  of  Fitz- 
patrick. 

The  two  mounted  the  stairs  in  silence.  Mrs. 
Sweeney  herself  answered  the  ring.  The  door 
was  opened  a  mere  crack,  and  her  head  ap- 
peared beyond  it. 

"What  ye  want?"  she  asked  in  a  surly 
voice. 

The  officer  touched  his  cap.  "I  wish  to  see 
Mrs.  Sweeney." 

" That's  me  name.  What  ye  want?" 

"Perhaps  we  can  talk  better  inside,"  he 
suggested;  but  the  crack  was  not  widened, 
and  with  a  little  tolerant  smile  he  went  on.  "I 
have  come  to  get  a  bird  that  belongs  to  this 
young  gentleman's  brother,"  with  a  sidelong 
nod  towards  Blue.  "I  - 

11  It's  our  bur-rd ! "  she  snapped.  " 'T  ain't 
theirs !  He  t  'ased  Mame  out  iv  it  be  pertindin' 
Jt  warn't  no  good,  an'  so  she  —  a  little  gur-rl 
—  lit  him  take  it.  Look  ut  th'  cheek  iv  him, 
whin  it's  not  his  ut  all,  kapin'  it  an'  kapin'  it, 
till  Mame  had  ter  go  an'  fitch  it  home!" 

"Madam,"  said  the  officer  quietly,  "there's 
31 


DOODLES 

no  use  putt'n'  up  a  bluff.  I  understand  the 
case  from  beginnin'  to  end.  Blue  Stickney 
bought  the  bird  of  your  girl,  it  was  a  right  up 
and  down  sale,  and  she  has  no  claim  on  it.  If 
you  '11  hand  it  over  at  once,  you  '11  save  your- 
self trouble." 

"I  guess  not  much!"  she  bristled,  —  "our 
own  bur-rd!  He's  lied  to  ye!" 

"Mrs.  Sweeney,"  —  a  heavy  hand  was  laid 
on  the  door,  —  "  I  've  no  time  to  waste  in  talk. 
I  will  thank  you  to  bring  me  that  bird,  or  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  take  unpleasant  measures." 

The  woman  hesitated,  muttering.  "I  guess 
I  may  's  well  lit  ye  have  it,"  she  at  last  wav- 
ered aloud,  "though  it's  ours,  sure!  Homely 
ol'  thing!"  she  went  on  scornfully.  "Mame 
was  a  fool  fer  buyin'  it ! "  She  still  stood  there, 
behind  the  crack,  sullen,  unwilling  to  yield. 

Thomas  Fitzpatrick  was  patient,  but  his 
supper  hour  was  going.  "I  suppose  you  know 
the  penalty  for  resisting  an  officer  of  the  law," 
he  finally  insinuated. 

She  darted  away,  and  the  man  swung  the 
door  wide,  stepping  to  the  sill.   His  big  form 
nearly  filled  the  open  space,  and  Blue  shifted 
about  for  a  view  of  the  apartment  beyond. 
32 


THE  ROBBERY  ON  THE  TOP  FLOOR 

When  the  cage  was  actually  in  the  boy's 
hand  his  heart  bounded  with  joy.  His  faith 
in  Tom  Fitzpatrick  had  been  all  but  over- 
balanced by  Mrs.  Sweeney's  determination  to 
keep  the  bird,  and  he  had  doubted  ever  seeing 
Caruso  again. 

Her  duty  performed,  the  woman  grew  bold. 
"  Ye  kin  take  it,"  she  patronized,  "if  't  will 
pacify  ye;  but  Sweeney  '11  prob'ly  bring  suit. 
He  ain't  wan  ter  stan'  no  humbuggin', 
Sweeney  ain't!" 

"You  can,  of  course,  do  as  you  choose," 
replied  the  officer;  "but  I  should  advise  you 
to  drop  the  matter.  You  see,  the  law 's  all  on 
our  side;  there  ain't  enough  your  side  o'  the 
fence  for  you  to  git  a  big  toe  on,  let  alone  a 
whole  foot.  Good-day,  ma'am!" 

Down  on  the  sidewalk  Fitzpatrick  cast  a 
look  into  the  cage.  Caruso,  huddled  up  on  his 
lowest  perch,  was  a  forlorn  bunch  of  feathers. 

"What  kind  of  bird  is  it?" 

"Do'  know  what  he  is;  nobody  seems  to 
know." 

"Looks  some  like  a  mockin'-bird." 

"That's  what  Dolly  Rose  said,"  agreed 
Blue. 

33 


DOODLES 

"What  ails  his  wing?  —  broke?" 

11 1  do  'know.  It's  always  been  bad;  but  it 
hangs  down  worse  'n  ever."  The  boy  scowled 
anxiously  at  it,  thinking  of  Doodles. 

"  You  ought  to  have  it  fixed,"  counseled  the 
big  man,  "and  I  know  who  can  do  it  for  you 
—  that 's  Sandy  Gillespie.  If  ther'  's  anything 
'bout  birds  'at  he  don't  know,  't  ain't  worth 
knowin'.  Why,  he's  got  a  house  full  of  'em  — 
all  kinds!  He  had  more  'n  fifty,  one  time.  He 
could  tell  you,  quick  as  wink,  what  this  one  is. 
I'd  take  it  up  there,  if  I  was  you.  He  lives 
'way  out  on  the  Temple  Hill  Road.  Know 
where  the  old  Hay  ward  place  is?" 

Blue  nodded. 

"Well,  he  lives  just  a  little  piece  beyond 
there,  a  big,  old-fashioned  house,  with  a 
piazza,  on  the  side." 

"How  much  '11  he  charge?"  ventured  the 
boy. 

"Oh,  that'll  be  all  right!  You  just  tell  him 
Tom  Fitzpatrick  sent  you.  I  declare,  wish 
I  could  go  with  you!  Sandy  Gillespie  is  a 
mighty  nice  man  —  good  's  they  make  'em." 

They  had  reached  The  Flatiron,  and  Blue 
expressed  his  thanks  in  no  uncertain  way.  "I 
34 


THE  ROBBERY  ON  THE  TOP  FLOOR 

was  awful  afraid  she  was  n't  goin'  ter  let  yer 
have  it,"  he  confessed. 

The  officer  laughed.  "I  was  n't,  a  bit,"  he 
said.  "I  took  a  little  more  time  than  I  might 
have  with  some  folks;  but  I  did  n't  want  a 
row.  It 's  better  to  get  along  quietly  when 
you  can.  Now  you  take  that  bird  up  to  Sandy 
to-morrow!  And  tell  the  kid  I'm  coming  in 
to  call  on  him  some  day.  Good-night." 

At  sight  of  Caruso  Doodles  held  out  both 
arms,  with  a  little  cry.  His  brother  set  the 
cage  on  his  knees,  and  the  bird  sprang  up  to 
the  top  perch  to  cuddle  against  his  master's 
soft  cheek. 

Doodles  and  Caruso  went  to  sleep  that 
night  side  by  side.  "I  want  him  right  where 
I  can  put  my  hand  on  the  cage  when  I  wake 
up,"  said  the  boy.  "Then  I  shall  know  his 
coming  back  was  n't  a  dream." 


CHAPTER  IV 

DOODLES  TURNS  MATCHMAKER 

IT  rained ;  but  no  merry,  independent  little 
drops  tinkled  upon  the  panes.  Mother  Nature 
appeared  to  be  housecleaning,  and  torrents 
of  water  were  dashed  against  the  windows. 
Doodles  watched  the  work  outside  while  Ca- 
ruso plumed  his  feathers.  When  the  long  toilet 
was  completed,  the  bird  and  the  boy  were 
ready  for  a  chat,  —  happy,  crooning  talk  on 
the  one  side,  soft,  tuneful  notes  on  the  other. 

Footfalls  were  on  the  stairs.  Somebody  was 
coming  up,  with  light,  running  steps. 

"  Sounds  like  Mr.  Gaylord,"  Doodles  told 
Caruso. 

Presently  a  young  man  appeared,  his  trim 
suit  of  dark  cheviot  corresponding  with  the 
bright,  smiling  face  which  he  turned  towards 
the  Stickney  kitchen. 

" Hello,  Doodles!"  The  blithe  voice  was 
enough  to  make  one  forget  such  things  as 
cloudy  skies  and  autumn  housecleaning. 

36 


DOODLES  TURNS  MATCHMAKER 

" Hello!"  the  boy  responded  joyfully. 
' '  Take  the  rocking-chair,  Mr.  Gaylord, — do ! " 

"I  had  a  little  time  before  dinner,  and 
thought  I  'd  run  up  and  hear  your  bird.  You 
know,  he's  never  sung  to  me  yet." 

"Maybe  he  won't  now,"  returned  Doodles 
anxiously.  "He  does  n't  like  rainy  days,  and 
then  he  got  so  scared  yesterday." 

A  query  brought  out  an  account  of  the 
afternoon's  excitement,  for  the  boy  was  still 
brimful  of  it.  The  visitor  was  a  sympathetic 
listener,  and  the  story  as  told  by  Doodles  was 
worth  hearing. 

"So  you've  found  a  name  for  him!"  re- 
marked the  young  man  presently,  after  they 
had  used  up  all  the  praiseful  adjectives  for 
Thomas  Fitzpatrick. 

"Yes,  Dolly  Rose  did  it!"  cried  Doodles 
gleefully.  "That  is  she  thought  of  it  first; 
then  Blue  came  in  with  it,  too — was  n't  that 
funny?  Do  you  know  Dolly  Rose?  " 

"I  think  not  —  who  is  she?" 

"Why,  she  lives  right  next  door  to  you," 
exclaimed  Doodles.  "She's  just  as  pretty! 
She 's  got  red  cheeks  and  lovely  blue  eyes  — 
exactly  like  the  sky,  and  the  cunningest  lit- 

37 


DOODLES 

tie  curls  in  her  hair.  Haven't  you  ever  seen 
her  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  guess  I  have  —  from  the  descrip- 
tion; but  I  did  n't  know  her  name." 

"You'd  like  her,  she's  so  sweet.  She 
brought  me  some  flowers  one  day,  and  a  peach 
another  time.  And  she  has  the  dearest  little 
dimples  when  she  smiles  —  I  always  want  to 
kiss  them!  Don't  you  like  dimples?  " 

"I  guess  so,"  laughed  Mr.  Gaylord.  "They 
always  remind  me  — " 

But  his  thought  was  interrupted,  for  Ca- 
ruso, with  a  few  bewitching  quirks  and  trills, 
burst  into  one  of  his  enchanting  songs. 

"Bravo!"  cried  the  visitor,  as  the  music 
ceased.  The  bird  had  stopped  as  suddenly  as 
he  had  begun,  and  was  now  lunching  on  a  bit 
of  cracker.  "He  is  a  worthy  namesake  of  the 
great  tenor." 

Doodles,  bending  over  the  cage,  whispered 
his  thanks  to  the  little  singer,  while  the  young 
man  surveyed  them  with  tender  eyes. 

"I  am  going  to  hear  the  other  Caruso  next 
Wednesday  night,"  he  said  presently.  "And 
that  makes  me  think  —  I  ought  to  be  picking 
out  my  seat;  they  went  on  sale  this  morning." 

38 


DOODLES  TURNS  MATCHMAKER 

The  boy's  eyes  shone.  "To  hear  him  sing! 
Won't  that  be  splendid!  Dolly  Rose  wants  to 
go  awfully  —  oh!  I  wonder  — "he  broke  off, 
gazing  at  the  other  in  hesitation,  yet  with  the 
brightness  of  the  new  thought  in  his  face. 
"Have  you  plenty  of  money?"  he  ventured. 

"It  depends  on  how  much  you  call  plenty," 
the  young  man  smiled.  "I  sha'n't  be  a  mil- 
lionaire this  year.  But  what  is  it  you  wish? 
fruit?  or  candy?  or  some  toy?  Say  on!  —  I'll 
risk  it!" 

Doodles  stared  an  instant.  Then  his  delicate 
face  lighted.  "Oh,  no,  nothing  for  me!  I've 
got  all /want!" 

The  visitor  looked  at  him,  the  hint  of  a  smile 
on  the  boyish  lips.  "You  are  fortunate,"  he 
said. 

The  child  did  not  notice.  "  I  was  only  think- 
ing," he  went  on,  "how  nice  it  would  be,  un- 
less it  cost  too  much,  if  you  —  she  wants  to 
hear  him  so  bad  —  if  you  could  take  Dolly 
Rose  to  the  concert  with  you!" 

Mr.  Gaylord  laughed  out,  and  Doodles 
chuckled  in  sympathy. 

"Will  you?  "he  urged. 

The  young  man  shook  his  head,     "I  am 

39 


DOODLES 

afraid  Miss  Dolly  would  n't  care  to  go  with  a 
fellow  she  does  n't  know  well  enough  to  bow 
to." 

"Oh,  yes,  she  would!  I  know  she  would!  I 
can  introduce  you  to  her  —  she  '11  be  here  now 
in  a  little  while!  Oh,  won't  it  be  lovely!"  The 
words  tumbled  over  each  other,  as  Doodles 
brought  his  hands  together  in  ecstasy. 

Mr.  Gaylord,  a  deeper  tinge  of  red  on  his 
sun-browned  face,  leaned  back  in  Mrs.  Stick- 
ney's  old  rocker,  while  his  shoulders  shook  si- 
lently and  his  gray  eyes  twinkled. 

Doodles  beamed  on  him.  "Are  n't  you  glad 
I  thought  of  it?  And  won't  she  be  pleased?" 

"I'm  not  certain — "  the  other  began,  but 
was  stopped  by  a  "Sh!" 

"She's  coming!"  whispered  Doodles. 

The  two  waited,  the  boy  eager,  the  man 
amused. 

"Oh,  Dolly!  Please  come  in!  I  want  to 
speak  to  you!  Hello!"  Doodles  was  joyfully 
excited. 

Inside  the  doorway  she  halted,  spying  the 
stranger. 

"You  need  n't  be  afraid  of  him!"  the  boy 
cried,  stretching  out  his  hand  to  her. 

40 


DOODLES  TURNS  MATCHMAKER 

She  stepped  forward,  and  held  it  close,  in 
both  her  own. 

"It's  Mr.  Gaylord,"  Doodles  hastened  to 
explain.  "He's  chauffeur  for  Mrs.  Graham, 
that  rich  lady  that  lives  over  on  Douglas 
Street.  I  've  been  tellin'  him  about  you.  This 
is  Miss  Dolly  Rose,  Mr.  Gaylord." 

The  young  man  offered  his  rocker,  which 
the  girl  gently  declined,  insisting  that  she 
had  not  time  to  sit  down. 

' '  Just  a  minute ! ' '  pleaded  Doodles.  ' '  I  want 
to  tell  you  something  right  away  —  you  '11  be 
so  glad !  —  Mr.  Gaylord  is  going  to  hear  the 
real  Caruso  next  week,  and  he's  going  to 
take  you!  Is  n't  that  beautiful?" 

Sparks  of  fun  twinkled  in  the  man's  eyes; 
but  they  vanished  when  he  glanced  at  the 
face  opposite.  It  was  flashing  with  indigna- 
tion. No  dimples  played  about  the  clear-cut 
lips.  He  anticipated  her  words. 

"Doodles  is  taking  things  a  little  for 
granted,"  he  said  with  gentle  deference.  "I 
should  certainly  consider  it  a  privilege  and 
an  honor  to  be  allowed  to  escort  you  to  the 
opera  house  Wednesday  evening;  but  let  me 
say  frankly  that  such  a  thought  could  scarcely 

41 


DOODLES 

have  occurred  to  me  except  for  our  young 
friend's  suggestion,  inasmuch  as  I  hardly 
knew  you  by  sight  and  had  never  heard  your 
name." 

The  girl  unbent  a  bit,  as  the  comicality  of 
the  situation  pushed  itself  forward. 

"Even  then,"  he  went  on,  "I  was  not  bold 
enough  to  expect  that  Doodles's  wish  would 
come  true,  but  now  that  we  have  been  properly 
introduced  I  will  say  that  I  should  honestly  be 
very  glad  if  you  would  go  with  me.  It  would 
add  a  great  deal  to  the  pleasure  of  my  evening." 

Evidently  the  girl's  inclination  and  judg- 
ment were  in  struggle,  and  the  latter  was  get- 
ting the  other  in  hand. 

"I  thank  you,  Mr.  Gaylord,"  she  answered, 
a  little  hesitantly,  "indeed,  I  do;  but,  really, 
I  don't  think  I  can  go  — " 

"Oh!  why  not?"  broke  in  Doodles.  "You 
said  you  wanted  to!" 

The  girl  trembled  on  the  verge  of  a  smile, 
and  suddenly  was  in  a  merry  laugh. 

"You  will  go,  won't  you?"  coaxed  the  boy, 
delighted  at  the  pleasant  turn  things  had  taken. 

"Perhaps,"  she  yielded  —  and  then  darted 
away. 


CHAPTER  V 

CARUSO  AND  DOCTOR  SANDY 

THE  next  day  being  Saturday  it  was  thought 
best,  after  a  family  council,  for  Blue  to  take 
Caruso  to  the  Scotchman  of  whom  Thomas 
Fitzpatrick  had  told  him. 

"You  won't  be  gone  so  very  long,  will  you?  " 
asked  Doodles  anxiously. 

"A  good  part  of  the  afternoon,  I'm  afraid," 
his  brother  answered.  "Do  you  mind  staying 
alone?" 

"Oh,  no!  only  I  was  thinking  I  shall  miss 
Caruso." 

Blue  heard  this  with  a  little  dismay,  for  he 
thought  it  not  unlikely  that  he  should  be 
obliged  to  leave  the  bird  for  treatment.  He 
wondered  whether  he  ought  to  prepare  Doodles 
for  such  a  possibility,  or  wait  and  let  things 
come  as  they  would.  Finally  he  ventured:  — 

"Maybe  the  bird  doctor  will  want  to  keep 
him  a  day  or  two." 

A  shadow  fell  on  the  fair  little  face. 
43 


DOODLES 

"Well,"  replied  the  boy  slowly,  "I  can  get 
along  if  he  has  to  stay.  You  tell  the  man  to  not 
think  about  me  at  all,  but  just  to  do  what's 
best  for  Caruso  —  oh,  won't  it  be  nice  if  he 
can  fix  Caruso's  wing  all  right!"  The  sorrow 
of  the  possible  separation  was  forgotten  in  the 
joy  of  the  moment. 

It  was  a  long,  hard  tramp  up  the  Temple 
Hill  Road;  but  Blue  Stickney,  with  abound- 
ing strength  in  every  muscle  of  his  lithe  little 
body,  was  scarcely  conscious  of  fatigue  when 
he  spied  the  rambling,  dilapidated  structure 
known  as  the  Hayward  place,  and  presently 
he  was  on  the  porch  of  the  white  house  beyond. 

A  stocky  little  man  opened  the  door,  whom 
the  boy  rightly  conjectured  to  be  the  owner 
himself.  His  face  was  framed  in  an  abundance 
of  wavy  reddish-gray  hair,  and  his  keen  blue 
eyes  looked  kindly  at  his  visitor  over  a  pair  of 
silver-bowed  spectacles. 

Blue  briefly  told  his  errand,  bringing  a  smile 
to  the  face  of  the  little  man  when  he  mentioned 
the  name  of  Fitzpatrick. 

"I  dinna  ken  a  better  mon,"  he  observed, 
with  a  strong  Scotch  accent.    "I  am  glad  to 
welcome  ony  freend  o'  his." 
44 


CARUSO  AND  DOCTOR  SANDY 

As  they  entered  the  big,  sunny  room  on  the 
left  of  the  wide  hall,  the  boy  looked  about  in 
plain  astonishment,  for  on  every  side,  high  and 
low,  were  birds  —  birds  in  cages,  and  birds 
free  to  fly  wherever  they  would. 

"My,  what  a  lot!"  he  exclaimed  under  his 
breath. 

Mr.  Gillespie  gave  him  a  pleased  nod  over 
Caruso's  cage,  from  which  he  was  carefully 
removing  the  newspaper  covering. 

The  bird,  contrary  to  his  usual  custom  with 
strangers,  did  not  appear  to  be  at  all  afraid  of 
the  Scotchman,  but,  turning  his  bright  eyes 
this  way  and  that,  surveyed  with  evident  curi- 
osity his  attractive  surroundings. 

The  first  to  give  him  a  musical  salutation 
was  a  cardinal  in  the  bay  window,  which  began 
a  series  of  soft,  sweet  whistles.  These  notes 
seemed  to  rouse  the  rest  of  the  family,  for 
shortly  a  concert  was  in  full  swing. 

The  singing  strangely  excited  Caruso.  He 
pranced  from  end  to  end  of  his  perches,  occa- 
sionally standing  motionless  as  if  to  listen,  and 
then  darting  off  again  in  a  wild  dance.  At  last 
he  could  keep  silent  no  longer,  and  a  flood  of 
music  poured  from  his  bursting  throat  which 

45 


DOODLES 

all  but  drowned  the  other  voices.  Indeed,  hi  a 
moment  he  had  the  stage  quite  to  himself,  and 
was  singing  as  he  had  never  sung  even  for  his 
beloved  little  master. 

Blue  actually  held  his  breath,  as  if  fearing 
to  miss  a  note  of  the  marvelous  performance; 
and  the  old  Scotchman,  accustomed  as  he  was 
to  all  manner  of  feathered  songsters,  gazed  at 
the  disabled  gray  bird  in  surprise  and  admi- 
ration. It  was  as  if  the  robin,  the  oriole,  the 
cardinal,  the  song  sparrow,  the  bluebird,  and 
a  host  of  others,  were  in  that  little  swelling 
throat.  And  this  was  interspersed  with  the 
mewing  of  cats,  the  grunting  of  pigs,  the  cack- 
ling of  hens,  the  call  of  the  Katy-dids,  and  the 
myriad  sounds  of  country  life.  The  singer 
finally  ended  with  the  first  notes  of  "  Annie 
Laurie,"  breaking  off  suddenly  in  the  middle 
of  a  measure  to  stand  with  drooping  head,  as 
if  trying  to  recollect  the  rest. 

Without  hesitation  Sandy  Gillespie  caught 
up  the  air  where  Caruso  dropped  it,  and 
whistled  it  through,  the  bird  still  motionless 
upon  his  perch. 

That  was  enough.  Memory  gave  back  to 
the  singer  what  he  had  almost  lost,  and  with 

46 


CARUSO  AND  DOCTOR  SANDY 

a  little  prelude  of  his  own  he  slipped  into  the 
old  song,  stopping  only  with  the  last  note. 

"Weel  dune,  birdie!  weel  dune!"  praised 
the  Scotchman  in  a  soft  voice,  while  Caruso 
pirouetted  about  like  a  pleased  child. 

The  man  smiled,  and  going  to  a  tiny  wall 
cupboard  fetched  something  which  he  placed 
in  the  bird's  cage. 

Caruso  watched  him  narrowly,  and  the  in- 
stant he  was  well  away  swooped  the  dainty 
before  Blue  could  discern  what  it  was. 

The  boy  caught  a  twinkling  glance  thrown 
him  from  over  the  spectacles,  and  he  answered 
it  with  inquiring  eyes. 

' '  Meal  worms, ' '  said  the  Scotchman.  ' '  Nae- 
thing  they  like  better.  What  d'  ye  feed  him?  " 

"Oh,  'most  anything!"  was  the  indefinite 
answer. 

Mr.  Gillespie  shook  his  head.  "Na,  na, 
that  winna  do ! "  He  picked  up  a  small  box  on 
the  table,  and,  emptying  the  bird's  food  cup, 
replaced  its  contents  with  a  little  from  the 
package. 

That  it  was  satisfactory  to  Caruso  was  ap- 
parent from  the  zest  with  which  he  ate  it. 

"Best  thing  for  mockin'  birdies,"  asserted 

47 


DOODLES 

the  Scotchman,  handing  Blue  the  box.  "Ye 
buy  it  at  th'  shop." 

The  boy  read  the  price  in  dismay,  "Fifty 
Cents."  They  could  never  afford  such  costly 
food. 

"Th'  wee  wing  wi'  sune  be  a'  right,  I'm 
thinkin',"  Mr.  Gillespie  was  saying.  "Ye 
maun  leave  th'  birdie  wi'  me,  an'  when  we're 
gude  freends  I  can  find  oot  th'  tribble." 

So  Blue,  feeling  that  his  errand  was  accom- 
plished, bade  the  little  man  good-bye,  prom- 
ising to  come  up  again  by  the  middle  of  the 
next  week. 


CHAPTER  VI 

GRANDPA   MOON    COMES   TO    TOWN 

"  On — ly  an  armour-bear — er,  proud — ly  I  stand, 
Wait — ing  to  fol — low  at  the  King's  command; 
Marching  if  'onward'  shall  the  or — der  be, 
Standing  by  my  Cap — tain,  serv — ing  faith — ful  —  ly. 

"  Hear  ye  the  battle  cry!  'Forward/  the  call! 
See!  see  the  faltering  ones!  back — ward  they  fall. 
Sure — ly  the  Captain  may  de — pend  on  me, 
Though  but  an  armour-bear — er  I  may  be. 
Sure — ly  the  Captain  may  de — pend  on  me, 
Though  but  an  ar — mour-bear — er  I  may  be." 

THE  pure,  sweet  voice  of  Doodles  carried 
the  song  on  and  on  without  touch  of  weariness. 
He  was  never  lonely  when  he  could  sing,  and 
now  that  Caruso  was  not  there  he  often  sung 
the  hours  away.  The  Flatiron  was  familiar 
with  the  singing  of  Doodles.  All  up  and  down 
the  long  halls  busy  mothers  and  tired  toilers 
would  open  then1  doors  to  the  heartening  music. 
They  did  not  stop  to  ask  whether  the  voice 
was  remarkable  or  not;  it  was  pleasant  to  hear, 
and  there  was  never  over-much  pleasure  in  The 
Flatiron.  A  few  realized  that  while  they  were 
49 


DOODLES 

listening  they  forgot  the  hard  life  that  bound 
them,  and  forgetfulness  even  for  a  tune  was 
worth  while. 
Bravely  rang  the  last  verse. 

"  On — ly  an  armour-bear — er,  yet  may  I  share 
Glo — ry  im — mor — tal,  and  a  bright  crown  wear: 
If,  in  the  bat — tie,  to  my  trust  I  'm  true, 
Mine  shall  be  the  hon — ors  in  the  Grand  Re — view. 

"  Hear  ye  the  battle  cry!  — " 

The  boy  stopped  suddenly,  for  an  old  man 
was  in  the  doorway.  He  had  removed  his  hat, 
and  stood  panting  from  his  climb  of  the  three 
nights. 

"  I  'm  —  sorry  —  to  —  inter-rupt  —  your  — 
beau-tiful  — " 

"Oh,  that  isn't  any  matter!"  Doodles 
broke  in.  "Come  right  and  sit  down!  Take 
the  rocking-chair;  it's  easiest." 

"Thank  you,"  bowed  the  stranger.  "I'm 
not  —  used  —  to  stairs." 

"These  are  pretty  steep,"  attested  Doodles. 
"They  make  mother  dreadfully  out  of  breath; 
but  Blue  runs  up  as  fast,  and  does  n't  mind 
'em  at  all." 

Before  the  old  man  could  talk  comfortably 

50 


GRANDPA  MOON  COMES  TO  TOWN 

he  let  go  the  query  that  was  impatient  on  his 
lips.  "Do  you  know  if  there's  a  girl  lives  in 
this  building  called  Moon?"  The  fine  face 
was  pathetic  in  its  eagerness. 

"  I  don't  remember  anybody  by  that  name," 
answered  the  boy  slowly,  thinking  hard. 
Flatiron  lodgers  were  so  numerous  and  so 
fleeting. 

All  brightness  faded  from  the  wrinkled 
face,  leaving  it  more  weary  than  before. 

"It's  my  granddaughter,"  the  trembling 
voice  explained.  "She  —  went  away  —  she 
had  to,  and  I  don't  blame  her  a  mite!  —  and 
she  could  n't  tell  me  where  —  I  do  wish  she 
had!  A  man  from  our  town  said  he  saw  her 
—  or  thought  it  was  —  coming  in  here  one 
day;  but  it  could  n't  'a'  been  her!"  He  sighed. 
"If  Horace  had  just  stopped  his  team,  and 
spoke  to  her  and  found  out!  But  you  can't 
much  blame  him  —  she  give  him  the  mitten 
once,  and  he's  never  gotten  over  it.  It's  no 
wonder  the  fellows  are  after  her;  she's  as 
pretty  as  her  mother  before  her.  Ye  see, 
she's  my  son's  child.  Her  mother  died  when 
she  was  a  little  thing,  and  her  father  married 
again.  Sarah's  been  a  good  mother  to  her, 

51 


DOODLES 

only  for  trying  to  make  a  match  between  her 
and  Zenas;  but  it's  natural  she  should  think 
her  boy  is  the  whole  earth.  And  he  must  needs 
make  love  to  my  girl!  As  for  that  matter, 
there  ain't  a  fellow  in  town  that  would  n't 
run  his  legs  off  to  get  one  of  her  smiles.  But 
Zenas  Camp!  He's  the  conceitedest,  dudish- 
est  numskull  I  ever  set  eyes  on.  Poor  child! 
she  could  n't  stand  his  love-making.  So  she 
had  to  go.  She  left  me  a  little  note,  telling 
me  why  she  could  n't  stay.  I  wish  she'd  told 
me  where  she  was  going,  but  she  said  she  was 
afraid  I'd  have  to  let  it  out  if  I  knew,  and  if 
I  did  n't  know  I  could  n't  tell.  Now  Zenas 
has  up  and  married  the  richest  old  maid  in 
town;  so  he's  out  o'  the  way.  She  could  come 
home  well's  not,  and  I  don't  know  where  to 
look  for  her."  He  bent  his  head  on  his 
hands. 

"I'm  sorry,"  sympathized  Doodles,  "I'm 
awfully  sorry!  I  guess  you'll  find  her;  I  feel's 
if  you  would." 

"  I  've  got  to ! "  The  old  frame  straightened. 
"To  think  of  her  —  innocent  little  thing!  — 
being  in  a  big  city  like  this,  all  alone,  makes 
me  wild!  I  must  find  her!  I  guess  I'm  'bout 

52 


GRANDPA  MOON  COMES  TO  TOWN 

rested  enough  to  go  on.  I  wish  you'd  sing 
me  just  one  piece  before  I  go." 

"I  wonder  what  you'd  like  best,"  Doodles 
mused. 

"That  you  were  singing  when  I  come  in  is's 
good  as  any  —  something  about  an  armour- 
bearer,  was  n't  it?" 

"Yes,  sir,  'Only  an  Armour-Bearer.'  I  like 
that,  I  s'pose  because  I'm  an  only,  too." 

"An  'only'?"  The  wrinkled  forehead  had 
a  puzzled  scowl. 

"Why,  yes,  sir;  I'm  only  a  little  boy  that 
can't  walk.  I  could  n't  even  be  an  armour- 
bearer,  if  they  had  them  now  —  mother  says 
she  guesses  they  don't.  But  if  they  did,  I 
could  n't  march  or  anything.  I  like  to  play  I 
can,  though.  It's  fine  to  feel  I'm  marching 
with  the  rest!  I  can't  really  do  much,  you 
know,  except  talk  and  sing.  But  mother  says 
some  folks  can't  even  do  that,  and  it  is  n't 
so  much  what  you  do  as  how  you  do  it.  I 
did  n't  know  that  till  mother  told  me.  It  is 
queer  how  much  mothers  know,  is  n't  it?  My 
mother  knows  'most  everything !  She 's  a  great 
comfort." 

"A  mother  is  the  best  thing  in  the  whole 

53 


DOODLES 

world,  little  one."  The  faded  blue  eyes  grew 
a  bit  misty. 

"I  think  so,"  agreed  Doodles.  "And  grand- 
fathers are  nice,  too.  Grandfather  Blue  was 
a  splendid  man,  mother  says.  Blue  was 
named  for  him,  but  he  don't  like  it  much. 
The  boys  call  him  Blue  Stick'  and  Sticky  Blue 
and  Sticky  Doleful,  and  sometimes  he  gets 
mad.  Mother  tells  him  he  ought  to  be  proud 
of  such  a  name,  and  proud  of  Stickney,  too, 
even  if  the  boys  do  turn  it  into  'sticky."3 

"Ye  can't  hurt  a  good  name  that  way," 
observed  the  old  man.  "A  name  that's  got 
generations  of  good  folks  back  of  it  is  the  kind 
that  puts  ye  on  your  mettle  to  keep  it  up  to 
the  mark." 

"Why,  you  talk  just  like  mother!"  cried 
Doodles,  his  brown  eyes  shining.  "My  father 
was  a  lovely  man,  but  I  did  n't  know  him. 
He  died  when  I  was  a  baby.  I  was  named 
for  father  and  Uncle  Jim,  Julius  James.  It's 
too  bad  about  Uncle  Jim!  He  was  mother's 
only  brother,  and  he  ran  away  because  grand- 
father would  n't  let  him  keep  his  violin.  You 
see,  he  had  been  saving  up  money  for  ever  so 
long  to  buy  a  violin  with,  and  then  when  he 
54 


GRANDPA  MOON  COMES  TO  TOWN 

got  it  grandfather  made  him  carry  it  back  to 
the  store  —  he  said  it  was  all  nonsense  for  him 
to  spend  his  time  fiddling.  But  Uncle  Jim  was 
possessed  about  music  —  mother  says  I  take 
after  him.  I  guess  grandfather  was  sorry 
enough  afterwards,  for  Uncle  Jim  never  came 
back.  Mother  has  n't  any  idea  where  he  is." 

On  the  listener's  face  the  lines  deepened. 
The  little  story  had  awakened  sad  possibili- 
ties. 

"  Suppose,  dearie,  you  sing  a  bit  now,"  he 
suggested.  "I  must  be  getting  on." 

"Oh,  I  forgot!"  exclaimed  Doodles  in  com- 
punction. 

"Only  an  Armour-Bearer "  was  succeeded 
by  "Jerusalem,  the  Golden,"  which  proved  to 
be  one  of  the  visitor's  favorites. 

"Mother  likes  that,"  confided  Doodles,  as 
he  rested  from  his  singing;  "it  reminds  her  so 
of  Uncle  Jim.  Once,  when  he  was  a  little  boy, 
there  was  company  to  stay  over  night,  a 
minister  and  his  wife  named  Hall.  Before 
they  went  to  bed  they  sung  some  hymns; 
Grandmother  Blue  played  on  the  melodeon, 
and  the  rest  stood  around  back  of  her.  When 
they  came  to  that  line,  'They  stand,  those 

55 


DOODLES 

halls  of  Zion,'  Jim  nudged  mother,  and  pointed 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hall,  and  she  giggled  right 
out!  Nobody  noticed  it  much,  they  were 
singing  so  loud;  but  she  was  dreadfully  mor- 
tified." 

Mr.  Moon  laughed  with  Doodles,  then,  after 
thanking  him  for  his  singing,  he  arose  to  his 
unsteady  feet. 

"If  I  don't  find  her  to-day,  I  think  I '11  have 
to  stay  over  till  to-morrow,"  he  said  quaver- 
ingly;  "  seems 's  if  I  could  n't  go  back  without 
my  little  Dolly!" 

"Dolly?"  repeated  Doodles,  his  eyes  round 
with  wonder.  "Dolly,  did  you  say?" 

"Why,  yes,  of  course,  Dolly!"  The  voice 
was  sharp  with  pain  and  something  akin  to 
impatience. 

"You  never  said  her  name  was  Dolly!" 
breathed  the  boy  reproachfully,  trying  to  fol- 
low out  the  sudden  possible  clue.  "But  she's 
Dolly  Rose!"  he  added,  with  a  little  shake 
of  his  head. 

' '  Child !  child !  what  are  you  talking  about? ' ' 

"Dolly  — my  Dolly  Rose!  But  she  ain't 
a  Moon!  She  said  her  name  was  Rose  — 
Dorothy  Rose." 

56 


GRANDPA  MOON  COMES  TO  TOWN 

"Boy!  tell  me  what  you're  driving  at! 
Who's  Dorothy  Rose?"  The  man  dropped 
heavily  into  the  chair  he  had  just  quitted. 

"Why,  she's  a  girl,"  Doodles  explained. 
"That's  her  room,"  pointing  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  hall.  "But  she  ain't  there  now," 
he  added  hastily,  for  the  old  man  was  rising, 
his  face  set  towards  the  door  indicated. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Doodles  softly,  "she  said 
her  grandpa  called  her  Dolly!  She  did!  But 
her  name's  Rose,"  he  insisted  sadly. 

"Oh,  't  ain't  likely  it's  my  Dolly!"  was 
the  dreary  conclusion.  Then  a  light  stole 
into  the  clouded  eyes.  "Her  name  ain't 
Rosetta,  is  it?" 

"No,  just  Rose,"  the  boy  replied  slowly. 

"And  — "he  hesitated,  reluctant  to  let  go 
his  forlorn  hope,  "she  ain't  lame,  is  she?" 

"Oh,  she  is!"  piped  Doodles  excitedly. 
' '  Only  a  little  — not  enough  to  hurt  her  a  bit ! " 
even  in  that  significant  moment  loyal  to  his 
friend. 

The  withered  face  flushed  and  whitened. 
The  faded  eyes  grew  bright.  "And  has  she 
got  curly  hair?" 

"Yes,  lovely!   And  red  cheeks!" 
57 


DOODLES 

"Red  as  roses!    And  her  eyes  are  blue- 
blue  as  - 

"The  sky  in  the  morning,  when  it's  cold!" 
Doodles  helped  out. 

"Ye've  got  it  exactly!  And  she's  a  slim 
little  thing?" 

"My,  yes,  I  guess  she  is!" 

They  were  two  excited  children,  each  eager 
for  one  more  word  of  evidence  that  should 
make  the  proof  sure. 

"She  has  the  dearest  dimples!"    Doodles 
cried. 

The  old  man  nodded  smilingly.  "Seem's 
if  it  must  be  Dolly,"  he  quavered.  "Ther' 
would  n't  be  two.  Her  name's  Dorothy  Ro- 
setta,  an'  she  prob'ly  just  called  it  Rose,  so 
Zenas  could  n't  find  her  —  that's  what!  My 
little  Dolly!  And  to  think  how  near  I  came  to 
missing  her  after  all!"  His  voice  tottered 
along  the  brink  of  tears,  then  something  glis- 
tened on  his  coat,  and  Doodles  politely  looked 
out  of  the  window. 

"It's  a  beautiful  day,"  he  remarked  pres- 
ently, not  turning  his  head.  "Dolly  will  be 
sure  to  come  home  this  noon;  she  always  does 
when  it 's  pleasant."  As  there  was  no  response, 

58 


GRANDPA  MOON  COMES  TO  TOWN 

he  went  on.  "She  found  Caruso  his  name. 
Caruso 's  my  bird  —  my  mocking  bird,  you 
know.  Dolly  named  him  after  the  real  Caruso. 
And,  oh,  she  went  to  hear  him,  with  Mr.  Gay- 
lord!" 

A  pleased  chuckle  made  Doodles  turn  round. 
"So  she's  caught  a  city  beau  already!" 
Grandpa  Moon  was  saying.  "She'd  never  be 
long  without  one,  she's  that  pretty." 

"I  guess  he's  a  beau,"  Doodles  responded, 
"he's  lovely  anyway.  They  went  to  a  moving 
picture  show,  too.  Oh,  they  looked  so  nice 
together!  You  ought  to  see  'em!  He  brought 
her  some  beautiful  flowers,  and  she  gave  me 
some." 

"Just  like  her!  She's  a  generous  little 
thing.  Tell  me  more  about  her." 

"There  is  n't  much.  She  works  in  the  knit- 
ting mill.  She  likes  Caruso  —  my  Caruso.  I 
wish  he  was  here  to  sing  for  you;  but  he's  at 
the  bird  doctor's  having  his  wing  mended.  It 
hung  down  dreadfully,  and  the  bird  doctor  is 
going  to  fix  it  so  it  '11  be  as  good  as  new.  Blue 
went  up  there  last  week  to  see  how  he 's  getting 
along,  and  he's  'most  well.  He  sings  'Annie 
Laurie'  —  just  think!  Seem's  if  I  couldn't 

59 


DOODLES 

wait  to  hear  him  sing  that!"  Doodles  gave  a 
vivid  account  of  the  bird's  sudden  recollection 
of  the  tune,  drifting  into  the  story  of  the  rob- 
bery and  Thomas  Fitzpatrick's  part  in  the 
exciting  little  affair.  The  first  noon  whistle 
brought  him  to  a  halt. 

"That's  five  minutes  of  twelve,"  he  an- 
nounced. "  Our  clock  is  too  slow.  Dolly '11  be 
here  pretty  soon  now  —  in  about  ten  minutes, 
I  guess." 

Talk  flagged  after  that,  although  Doodles 
tried  to  keep  up  a  show  of  it.  It  is  doubtful 
whether  the  old  man  heard  much  of  what  was 
said;  his  thin  fingers  drummed  restlessly  on 
the  arms  of  the  rocker,  and  at  every  sound  he 
glanced  towards  the  doorway. 

"We  shall  hear  her  coming  up,"  Doodles 
told  him;  "I  always  do.  'T  is  n't  quite  time 

-most  though.  Mother  doesn't  —  "he 
stopped,  listening,  then  nodded  gleefully. 
"Hear  her?  She  's  on  the  first  flight." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head;  his  ears  were 
not  keen  enough  to  catch  that  soft  footfall. 
Quickly,  however,  his  face  brightened. 

"Won't  she  be  astonished!"  the  boy  whis- 
pered. 

60 


GRANDPA  MOON  COMES  TO  TOWN 

The  girl  smiled  a  gay  answer  to  Doodles's 
greeting,  and  was  starting  over  the  threshold 
when  she  spied  the  foot  and  trousers-leg  of  a 
man,  and  retreated. 

"No,  no!  don't  go !"  cried  Doodles.  "Please 
come  in  just  a  minute,  Dolly  dear!" 

As  she  advanced,  the  occupant  of  the  rock- 
ing-chair turned  toward  her.  She  flashed  one 
glance  at  that  wrinkled  face,  and  darted  for- 
ward with  a  glad,  "Grandpa!  grandpa!" 

To  Doodles's  surprise  he  found  his  cheeks 
wet  with  tears,  and  the  others  were  wiping 
their  eyes.  Why  people  should  cry  when  they 
were  happy  he  could  not  understand. 

For  a  time  words  flew  merrily  from  lip  to 
lip.  "To  think  that  Cynthi'  Beadles  should 
marry  Zenas  Camp!"  laughed  Dolly.  Then 
she  sobered,  with  a  "Poor  Cynthi'!" 

"You'll  go  home  with  me,  this  afternoon?" 
Grandpa  Moon  queried  in  a  taken-for-granted 
tone. 

The  answer  came  promptly  enough,  "Of 
course  I'll  go!"  Yet  she  looked  wistfully 
across  at  Doodles,  and  thought  of  somebody 
else  with  a  tiny  anxious  scowl  and  a  faint 
flush. 

61 


DOODLES 

Shortly  the  two  went  off,  arm  in  arm,  Dolly 
eager  to  show  her  "cosy  little  den,"  and  to 
make  grandpa  a  cup  of  tea.  They  did  not  re- 
turn to  say  good-bye  until  after  Mrs.  Stickney 
and  Blue  had  come  and  gone.  Then  the  stay 
was  too  brief  for  the  satisfaction  of  Doodles; 
but  the  train  must  be  met,  and  there  were 
several  calls  to  be  made  first.  So  with  promises 
to  write,  the  parting  was  over. 

Just  before  six  o'clock,  Mr.  Gaylord  dropped 
in,  as  he  often  did  when  he  had  a  moment's 
leisure.  Doodles's  news  left  him  grave. 

"She  wanted  me  to  tell  you  she  was  sorry 
she  could  n't  see  you  again,"  the  boy  ended. 

The  young  man's  response  was  to  ask, 
"Where  is  her  home?" 

Doodles  stared  at  him  unseeingly.  He  was 
searching  his  memory.  At  last  he  dragged  out 
his  forlorn  answer,  "I  don't  know!" 

The  other  smiled  grimly. 

"She  never  told!  I'm  sure  she  didn't!" 
The  boy's  brown  eyes  brimmed  over.  "Now  I 
can't  send  her  a  letter!" 

"Never  mind,  little  man!  She  will  write  to 
you,  and  then  you'll  know."  Still  as  he  went 
across  the  hall  to  his  room  —  grown  suddenly 
62 


GRANDPA  MOON   COMES  TO  TOWN 

so  lonesome  —  he  wondered  if  the  omission 
could  have  been  intentional.  His  next  thought 
was  to  upbraid  himself  for  the  doubt. 

Yet  days  multiplied,  weeks  slipped  away, 
and  no  word  came  from  Dolly  Moon. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A   FRIEND   FROM   GREECE 

EVEN  the  doorknob  of  Dolly  Moon's  room 
looked  melancholy.  So  Doodles  felt,  and  he 
turned  a  little  in  his  chair,  that  it  might  not 
face  him.  Then,  more  lonely,  he  looked  back, 
and,  while  he  was  looking,  a  man  and  a  boy 
came  up  the  stairs.  Although  less  than  an  hour 
ago  he  had  wished  that  somebody  else  would 
lodge  there,  when  the  two  passed  the  kitchen 
and  steered  straight  toward  Dolly's  old  room, 
resentment  rose  in  his  loyal  heart. 

"It's  hers!"  he  muttered.  "They  have  n't 
any  right  to  go  in!" 

But  go  in  they  did,  each  with  a  "queer- 
shaped,  green  bundle,"  he  told  Blue  as  soon 
as  he  came. 

"And  the  boy  is  'bout  as  big  as  me,"  he 
went  on.  "Do  you  s'pose  we  shall  ever  get 
acquainted?" 

"Sure,"  returned  his  brother.  "Why  not? 
You  must  hello  to  him." 

64 


A  FRIEND  FROM  GREECE 

Blue's  word  was  to  be  obeyed,  and  the  first 
time  that  the  strange  boy  passed  the  doorway 
alone  Doodles  let  go  his  friendly  greeting. 

The  lad  turned  quickly,  showed  two  rows 
of  exceedingly  white  teeth  in  a  pleased  smile, 
and  responded  with  a  soft,  "'llo!" 

"Will  you  come  in  and  see  me?"  invited 
Doodles  politely. 

The  boy  halted  and  again  flashed  his  bright 
smile.  "I  come  —  t'anks!"  He  stepped  over 
the  threshold,  and  stood  hesitant,  his  mobile 
face  tender  with  sympathy  at  sight  of  the 
helplessness  of  the  occupant  of  the  pillowed 
chair. 

Before  Doodles  could  speak,  Caruso  began 
his  musical  welcome,  and  the  stranger  did  not 
move  or  shift  his  gaze  from  the  singer  until 
the  little  song  was  ended.  Then  he  turned  to 
Doodles,  aglow  with  appreciation.  His  slim 
little  hands  made  quick  gestures  as  he  came 
near.  "Nice!  nice!"  he  smiled,  hunting 
through  his  small  stock  of  English  for  a  better 
word.  ' '  He  sing  —  nice ! ' ' 

"I  think  he  does,"  Doodles  responded  hap- 
pily. "I  wish  he'd  sing  'Annie  Laurie.'  — 
Caruso!" 

65 


DOODLES 

The  bird  answered  promptly,  and  at  once 
Doodles  began  softly  the  old  song,  carrying  it 
through  to  the  end  of  the  verse.  Then  Caruso 
with  a  few  trills,  struck  into  the  same  air. 

Doodles  watched  the  visitor's  face,  as  the 
bird  sang;  nobody  had  ever  listened  to  Caruso's 
singing  with  that  look.  It  was  wonder,  ad- 
miration, and  joy,  it  was  more  than  that  — 
Doodles  could  not  tell  what  it  was.  But  he  felt 
that  the  new  boy  appreciated  his  bird's  singing, 
and  he  was  glad. 

When  the  stranger  turned,  his  eyes  had  a 
far-away  look  in  them,  as  if  he  were  still  hear- 
ing music.  Then  came  that  brilliant  smile. 

"I  —  love  heem!"  pointing  to  Caruso.  "1 
—  no  talk  good.  I  —  learn  Eengleesh  —  I  go 
school  one,  two,  free,"  counting  on  his  fin- 
gers —  he  shook  his  head  sadly,  and  sighed. 
The  word  would  not  come.  "One,  two, 
free,"  he  repeated,  and  halted  again. 

"Three  years?"  prompted  Doodles. 

The  boy  shook  his  head. 

"Months?" 

He  smiled.  "Yes,  t'anks,  free  months  I 
go  school  here  —  America.  I  go  school  — 
Athens." 

66 


A  FRIEND  FROM  GREECE 

"Oh!  did  you  live  in  Athens?"  Doodles 
was  interested. 

"Yes,"  the  boy  nodded.  Then  a  thought 
filled  his  eyes  with  light.  ' '  I  play ! "  He  darted 
off,  across  the  hall,  returning  with  a  violin, 
which  he  began  to  finger  in  a  way  that  roused 
Doodles' s  admiration. 

He  lifted  it  to  his  shoulder,  and  drew  his 
bow  across  the  strings,  holding  the  instrument 
caressingly,  as  if  it  were  a  living  thing. 

Doodles  sat  entranced  through  the  playing. 
Never  had  he  heard  such  music. 

The  player  slipped  into  the  tune  of  "An- 
nie Laurie,"  with  a  peremptory,  "You  sing!" 
And  Doodles  began,  half  shyly,  but  soon  he 
was  the  chief  performer,  the  violin  playing  a 
soft  accompaniment. 

On  the  second  verse  Caruso  joined  them 
with  his  mellow  whistle,  the  effect  being  start- 
lingly  sweet  and  delightful. 

"Where  you  learn?"  asked  the  young  vio- 
linist in  the  first  pause. 

"I?"  repeated  Doodles  in  surprise. 

The  other  gave  a  smiling  nod. 

"Why,  I  guess  I  never  learned.  I've  always 
sung." 

67 


DOODLES 

The  boy  looked  the  admiration  he  could  not 
speak.  "You  sing  —  nice!"  he  said. 

"You  play  beautifully!"  declared  Doodles. 

The  dark  little  face  brightened.  "Yes, 
that!  You  sing  beau-tee-fully!  I  no  get  word 
-you  sing  beau-tee-fully!" 

"Do  you  think  so?"  Doodles  grew  pink 
with  pleasure.  "I  never  heard  anybody  play 
the  violin  so  well  as  you,"  he  went  on.  "I 
wish  you'd  play  more." 

"I  play  —  you  sing."  The  Greek  boy 
waited  expectantly. 

After  a  moment's  thought  Doodles  began 
one  of  his  favorite  hymns,  "The  Ninety  and 
Nine,"  the  other  listening,  his  violin  on  his 
shoulder.  He  quickly  caught  the  air,  and  was 
soon  playing  a  charming  accompaniment. 

There  was  another  who  was  not  content  to 
be  silent.  The  boys  had  not  counted  on  the 
mocking  bird,  but  suddenly  he  started  one  of 
his  amusing  medleys.  Discords  increased,  and 
at  last,  with  a  chuckle,  the  violinist  dropped 
his  instrument,  Doodles  doubled  over  in  a 
laugh,  and  Caruso  was  left  as  star  performer. 

The  new  friends  talked,  the  stranger  telling, 
in  his  meager  English,  of  his  home  in  Athens, 
68 


A  FRIEND  FROM  GREECE 

of  the  gentle  mother  whom  he  could  barely 
remember,  and  of  how  she  had  named  him 
Christarchus  Apostus  because  she  wished  him 
to  be  an  apostle  of  Christ;  of  the  father  who 
thought  him  better  fitted  for  a  musician  than 
a  preacher;  of  their  dream  of  America,  and, 
when  money  grew  scarce  and  scarcer,  of  their 
resolve  to  seek  their  fortune  across  the  wide 
sea.  He  told  of  their  hopeful  departure  from 
the  land  of  flowers  and  fruit  and  sunny  skies, 
of  the  terrifying  ocean  voyage;  and,  lastly,  of 
their  engagement  in  the  orchestra,  where  they 
played  the  violin  every  night. 

After  this  recital  came  more  music,  Caruso 
being  too  busy  at  his  food  cup  for  interrup- 
tion. The  concert  was  still  proceeding  when 
the  young  visitor's  father  appeared  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  and  "My  Old  Kentucky 
Home"  came  to  a  sudden  end. 

"We  had  a  lovely  time,"  Doodles  told  his 
mother,  and  at  once  launched  into  the  history 
of  his  short  acquaintance  with  "the  new  boy." 
He  had  not  finished  when  Mr.  Gaylord  ar- 
rived with  delightful  news  —  he  had  seen 
Dolly  Moon,  had  actually  been  at  her  home  in 
Pebbleton,  and  she  had  sent  to  Doodles  a 

69 


DOODLES 

quart  of  cream,  a  basket  of  apples,  and  a  jar 
of  clover  honey.  She  had  been  waiting  for  a 
letter,  having  overlooked  the  truth  —  that 
her  Flatiron  friends  did  not  know  where  she 
lived,  and  she  was  very  much  ashamed  of  her 
forgetfulness  and  of  her  neglect  to  write  to 
them.  The  young  man  had  discovered  her  by 
accident.  He  had  been  taking  his  employer, 
Mrs.  Graham,  to  an  adjoining  town,  and  in 
passing  through  Pebbleton  he  had  spied  the 
girl  at  a  window.  Feeling  sure  that  he  could 
not  be  mistaken,  he  had  obtained  permission, 
after  leaving  Mrs.  Graham  at  her  friend's,  to 
run  back  to  Pebbleton.  The  result  had  justi- 
fied his  hopes,  and  he  was  in  an  unwonted 
elation  of  spirits  that  the  Stickney  family  did 
not  fail  to  observe. 

Doodles  ended  his  supper  with  honey  and 
cream,  and  he  thought  he  had  never  tasted 
anything  half  so  nice. 

"It  has  been  a  most  wonderful  day,"  he 
confided  to  Caruso  when  he  said  good-night. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE   STRIKE 

BLUE  joined  his  mother  in  the  little  dark 
bedroom,  whither  she  had  stealthily  beckoned 
him. 

She  closed  the  door,  and  pulled  him  to  a 
farther  corner,  beyond  the  keen  ears  of 
Doodles. 

"  You  must  n't  spend  a  penny  for  anything 
you  can  get  along  without!"  she  whispered. 
"I'm  sorry  you  bought  that  orange." 

"Why?"  queried  the  boy,  surprised. 
"Doodles  said  the  other  day  he'd  like  one." 

"You  asked  him." 

"Yes,"  admitted  Blue.  "But  it  's  good  for 
him  —  he  don't  eat  much  anyway." 

"  I  know,"  sighed  the  mother,  and  stopped. 

"What 's  up?"  demanded  the  boy. 

"'Sh!" 

"He  can't  hear!  He's  talkin'  to  the  bird." 

"Well,"  she  softened  her  voice,  "I  have  n't 
said  anything  —  and  they  've  kept  it  pretty 

71 


DOODLES 

whist;  but  we're  ordered  out  on  strike  to- 
morrow noon,  unless  the  company  come  to 
our  terms  —  and  they  won't!" 

"Whew!" 

"I'm  awfully  sorry.  I  hoped  they'd  patch 
things  up."  She  put  her  hand  to  her  eyes. 

"It's  a  shame!"  cried  Blue. 

"'Sh!  I  don't  want  him.  to  know  any  more 
than  is  necessary." 

"He  is  n't  goin'  to  hear!  What's  the  muss 
anyhow?" 

"Oh!  it's  about  those  hands  that  they  dis- 
charged, and  then  they've  asked  for  more 
wages." 

"I'll  try  to  git  some  extry  jobs,"  decided 
the  boy. 

"Please  don't  say  git,"  corrected  his 
mother,  "and  remember  that  extra  is  spelled 
with  an  a." 

"Oh,  I  for  —  get!"  laughed  Blue. 

"You're  a  good  boy  anyway,"  the  mother 
replied  with  a  catch  in  her  voice.  "What 
should  I  do  without  you!"  She  clasped  him 
there  hi  the  dark,  while  he  made  an  impulsive 
resolve  to  be  more  worthy  of  her  love  and 
praise.  Nevertheless  he  laughed. 
72 


THE  STRIKE 

"You  have  n't  got  to  do  without  me!"  he 
told  her,  and  ran  back  into  the  kitchen. 

The  next  day  Mrs.  Stickney  walked  out  of 
the  big  silver  shop  with  the  other  workers,  in- 
wardly rebelling  at  the  command  that  forced 
her  to  give  up  the  daily  wages  so  needful  for 
the  comfort  of  herself  and  her  family.  Only  a 
little  money  was  in  the  emergency  purse.  Six 
dollars  a  week  left  not  much  to  spare,  and 
women  hands  in  the  silver  shop  were  not  al- 
lowed to  earn  more  than  a  dollar  a  day.  If  by 
dint  of  nerve  and  skill  a  toiler  in  skirts  was 
able  to  add  a  few  cents  to  the  customary  one 
hundred  her  work  was  so  arranged  that  she 
must  keep  to  her  task  more  closely  to  compass 
even  her  regular  pay.  Yet  Mrs.  Stickney 
never  complained;  six  dollars  paid  the  rent, 
bought  plain  food,  a  slender  amount  of  fuel, 
and  enough  clothing  for  actual  need.  But 
now?  The  mother  had  pondered  the  question 
through  all  the  working  hours,  she  had  carried 
it  to  bed  with  her  night  after  night,  and  it  was 
no  nearer  the  answer  than  when  it  had  first 
dismayed  her.  She  must  get  something  to  do 
—  anything!  But  with  hundreds  of  unem- 
ployed women  ready  to  pounce  upon  every 

73 


DOODLES 

little  odd  job  would  there  be  any  chance  for 
her?  On  her  way  home  she  called  at  the  settle- 
ment, not  far  from  The  Flatiron,  hoping  that 
one  of  the  girls,  whom  she  slightly  knew,  could 
direct  her  to  somebody  in  need  of  a  seamstress. 
But  the  friendly  answer  was  disappointing. 

"I  am  sorry  I  can't  give  you  any  encourage- 
ment, Mrs.  Stickney.  We  have  more  applica- 
tions than  we  know  what  to  do  with.  I  will 
put  your  name  on  the  waiting  list,  and  there 
may  be  something  later." 

So  she  went  home  to  Doodles  burdened 
with  forebodings,  though  resolved  that  he 
should  not  suspect  her  worry.  He  was  de- 
lighted at  thought  of  having  her  with  him  all 
day  long,  and  she  fostered  his  pleasure  by  fill- 
ing that  first  afternoon  with  song  and  stories 
and  gay  talk. 

Just  before  six  o'clock,  Granny  O'Donnell, 
shrewd  as  kind,  toiled  up  the  stairs  with  a 
little  loaf  of  hot  gingerbread  —  gingerbread 
such  as  only  Granny  knew  how  to  make. 

Then  Blue  came  in,  late  and  jubilant.  He 
had  earned  an  extra  quarter  by  delivering 
some  parcels  for  a  paper  customer,  and  more 
errands  were  promised. 

74 


THE  STRIKE 

Thus  the  supper  hour  went  blithely,  and 
afterwards  the  dishes  in  the  pan  rattled  mer- 
rily to  the  tune  of  "  Edinburgh  Town." 

The  prepared  food  which  Mr.  Gillespie  had 
generously  sent  home  with  the  mocking  bird 
was  now  nearly  gone.  Blue  looked  sadly  into 
the  little  box  every  time  he  filled  Caruso's  cup. 
How  could  they  spare  half  a  dollar  for  more! 
Yet  the  Scotchman  had  said  that  the  bird's 
health  depended  on  it.  Happily,  carrots  were 
cheap,  and  patiently  the  boy  grated  them, 
mixing  as  much  with  the  other  food  as  he 
dared,  often  going  beyond  the  prescribed 
proportion.  He  also  went  hunting  through 
obscure  corners  of  The  Flatiron  for  dead  flies 
and  live  spiders,  making  a  fortunate  find, 
one  rainy  Saturday,  in  a  vacant  room  in  the 
second  story.  Scores  of  lifeless  flies  dotted 
the  floor  and  window  sills,  and  Blue  brushed 
them  up  with  delighted  hands.  Treated  with 
boiling  water,  they  would  make  dainty  tidbits 
for  the  gray  bird.  In  these  ways  the  dreaded 
day  of  famine  was  postponed. 

Meanwhile  Christarchus  Apostus  Gean- 
skakes  came  to  be  the  daily  comrade  of 
Doodles.  As  the  strike  continued,  and  Mrs. 

75 


DOODLES 

Stickney  obtained  employment  in  a  restau- 
rant kitchen,  which  kept  her  from  home  all  of 
the  daylight  hours,  this  was  especially  satis- 
factory. 

"I  tell  you  how  play,"  the  Greek  boy  had 
proposed  on  an  early  visit,  and  Doodles  was 
blissfully  ready  to  learn.  So  the  daily  lessons 
went  on,  the  pupil  making  rare  progress,  and 
happy  beyond  anything  he  had  ever  known. 
Music  was  his  joy,  and  to  be  able  to  cause 
such  wonderful  harmonies  with  —  according 
to  Blue  —  "just  some  horse  hairs  and  those 
four  fiddle  strings"  was  an  unending  marvel 
and  delight.  If  only  he  could  have  a  violin  of 
his  own  —  a  little  one!  Christarchus  said  you 
could  get  them  cheap.  But  when  he  had  sug- 
gested it  to  his  mother  she  became  so  strangely 
grave  that  he  did  not  speak  of  it  again.  Per- 
haps she  was  thinking  of  Uncle  Jim.  Chris- 
tarchus urged  his  own  instrument  upon  him 
whenever  he  was  not  practicing  himself,  and 
it  was  far  better  than  any  he  could  hope  to 
buy.  So  side  by  side  with  the  increasing  anxi- 
ety of  his  mother  and  brother  his  happiness 
grew.  And  then,  one  sunny  forenoon,  when 
Doodles  supposed  him  to  be  at  school,  Chris- 
76 


THE   STRIKE 

tarchus  walked  slowly  in.  His  face  foreboded 
ill. 

"I  go,"  he  said  drearily.  "My  fader  he  go 
New  York  —  get  more  pay  —  I  haf  go."  His 
big  black  eyes,  usually  brimming  with  sparkles 
of  glee,  were  shadowy  and  mournful,  as  if,  at 
any  instant,  they  might  melt  into  tears. 

Doodles  was  dumb  with  anguish.  He 
stared  mistily.  His  bliss,  which  a  moment  be- 
fore had  seemed  so  secure,  had  vanished  like 
a  bubble.  He  clinched  his  little  fists,  and  sat 
waiting. 

"I  go,"  Christarchus  repeated  dully,  gazing 
at  Doodles  with  a  yearning  that  would  have 
broken  one's  heart,  if  anybody  had  been  there 
to  see.  But  they  were  alone,  and  when  the 
Greek  boy  became  sure  of  the  fact  he  crossed 
over  and  took  his  comrade's  cold  little  hand 
in  his. 

"I  —  love  —  ever!"  came  brokenly  from 
his  quivering  lips. 

Doodles  roused  at  last,  and  clung  to  him, 
still  silent  and  tearless. 

The  voice  of  the  father  was  in  the  hall,  and 
the  boy  ran  to  answer.  Later  he  returned 
with  his  small  suit  case. 

77 


DOODLES 

Doodles,  his  grieving  brown  eyes  full  of  un- 
speakable things,  let  go  a  few  words  that  tried 
to  be  brave,  whereupon  Christarchus  caught 
up  his  violin  and  began  a  sad,  sweet  melody, 
ending  with  a  glorious  strain  of  triumph  — 
the  good-bye  that  he  could  not  put  into  an 
unfamiliar  tongue.  It  stayed  with  Doodles,  to 
comfort  him,  long  after  the  player  was  gone. 

To  cap  this  sorrow  came  a  new  trouble. 
The  restaurant  man  disappeared,  leaving 
little  behind  him  but  debts  and  an  unsavory 
reputation.  The  bulk  of  Mrs.  Stickney's  well- 
earned  wages  would  never  be  paid,  and  the 
mother  was  too  disheartened  even  to  sing. 
Caruso  shared  the  family  gloom,  and  moped 
on  his  perch.  Some  days  he  would  eat  scarcely 
anything. 

"I'm  afraid  he  misses  the  violin,"  Doodles 
confided  to  his  brother;  but  the  boy  wondered, 
secretly,  if  he  had  put  too  much  carrot  in  his 
food,  and  went  on  a  hunt  for  spiders,  which 
the  Scotchman  had  said  were  good  for  the 
appetite. 

It  was  at  this  point  of  time  that  Blue 
brought  home  a  beautiful  red  sweet  apple, 
given  him  by  Joseph  Sitnitsky  for  the  "little 
78 


THE  STRIKE 

brother  with  the  not-taking  sickness,  who 
could  n't  to  never  walk." 

Doodles  clasped  the  gift  smilingly.  "What 
did  make  him  send  it? "  he  questioned.  "How 
did  he  know  there  was  any  me?  I  never  saw 
him." 

"Oh!  he's  heard  me  mention  you,"  an- 
swered Blue  discreetly. 

"He  must  be  a  very  nice  boy,"  Doodles 
decided.  "I  should  like  to  know  him.  You 
tell  him  I  thank  him  ever,  ever  so  much.  I 
think  I  will  eat  it  right  away,  would  n't  you?  " 

Blue  agreed  that  it  was  a  good  time. 

"A  quarter  for  mother,  and  a  quarter  for 
you,  and  I  guess  one  for  Granny  O'Donnell  — 
oh,  and  one  for  Caruso!  He  likes  sweet  apple! 
Perhaps  it  will  make  him  sing." 

Blue  laughed.  "Where's  your  quarter 
coming  from?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  did  I  forget  me?"  smiled  Doodles  in- 
nocently. "Well,  you  can  give  me  one,  too." 

"There  aren't  but  four  quarters  in  an 
apple,  old  feller  —  mother,  Caruso,  Granny, 
and  I  would  take  'em  all."  His  eyes  twinkled. 

"That's  so!  I  forgot  about  the  quarters! 
Well,  Caruso  won't  mind  if  he  does  n't  have  a 
79 


DOODLES 

whole  one,  he's  so  little;  one  will  do  for  both  of 
us." 

Blue's  lips  puckered  as  he  cut  the  fruit  in 
range  of  the  watchful  brown  eyes;  but  he  saw 
to  it  that  the  owner  of  the  apple  received  his 
full  share. 

To  the  delight  of  Doodles,  the  bird  ate  with 
unusual  zest  what  Blue  scraped  for  him,  and 
then  danced  about,  eyeing  that  outside  the 
cage. 

"Oh,  he  wants  some  more!"  cried  his  little 
master,  thereupon  feeding  him  from  his  own 
piece.  And  Caruso  thanked  him  with  a  song 
—  the  first  in  many  days. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THOMAS  FITZPATRICK'S  WHISTLE 

THE  gravity  of  the  strike  situation  in- 
creased. There  was  small  prospect  of  imme- 
diate yielding  on  either  side.  A  few  turbulent 
strikers  blustered  and  threatened,  secret  mass 
meetings  were  held,  and  whispers  of  ugly 
times  ahead  ran  through  The  Flatiron.  Mrs. 
Stickney  did  not  place  much  faith  in  these 
rumors,  yet  they  added  to  her  restlessness, 
and  she  redoubled  her  efforts  to  find  work. 

Blue  walked  the  streets  out  of  school  hours, 
searching  for  a  job;  but  with  the  throngs  of 
unemployed,  many  bent  on  the  same  business, 
he  stood  only  a  chance  with  hundreds.  His 
extra  earnings  grew  lighter,  and  the  home 
purse  correspondingly  thin.  The  bird's  food 
box  was  empty,  and  insects,  dead  or  alive, 
were  scarce.  The  mother  dealt  out  rations 
with  a  sparing  hand,  and  nobody  asked  for 
more.  Finally  came  a  day,  the  day  that  had 
been  feared,  when  purse  and  pantry  fell  to  the 

81 


DOODLES 

rank  of  Caruso's  box,  and  the  breakfast  table 
showed  only  a  small  bowl  of  baked  bean  soup. 

The  boys  waited  at  their  plates,  Mrs. 
Stickney  pottering  about  the  stove. 

"Better  hurry!"  urged  Blue.  "It'll  get 
cold." 

"You  eat  it  all;  I  don't  want  any  break- 
fast." 

"Not  much!"  declared  the  boy.  "We're 
going  to  wait  till  you  come." 

"Course  we  are,"  Doodles  agreed. 

"Oh,  dear,"  she  fretted,  half  chuckling, 
"what  children  you  are!"  She  sat  down  and 
ate  what  Blue  ladled  out  for  her  —  she  did 
not  know  whether  it  was  much  or  little,  her 
mind  was  too  distracted  and  her  eyes  too 
misty.  But  the  boy  knew,  and  felt  that  he 
could  better  go  hungry  than  his  mother. 

Mrs.  Stickney  went  out  early  on  her  forlorn 
errand,  her  heart  full  of  prayer  for  work.  If 
nothing  could  be  obtained  to-day,  she  must 
try  to  get  a  little  more  credit  at  the  market  — 
enough  to  bridge  over  this  crisis.  After  that 
—  well,  perhaps  the  strike  would  end!  And, 
sighing,  she  trudged  on. 

Blue  decided  daringly  to  stay  away  from 
82 


THOMAS  FITZPATRICK'S  WHISTLE 

school,  and  hunt  for  work.  He  had  not  sug- 
gested such  a  thing  to  his  mother,  well  know- 
ing her  sanction  would  be  hard  to  win.  He 
reasoned,  however,  that  this  was  an  extreme 
case,  and  that  he  must  earn  some  money 
before  night.  Five  hours  of  extra  time  would 
give  him  a  greater  chance,  and  he  resolved  to 
take  it. 

"  Are  you  very  hungry,  kiddie?  "  he  queried 
as  he  took  up  his  cap. 

"Oh,  no!"  smiled  Doodles.  "I  had  a  good 
breakfast;  did  n't  you?" 

"Capital!"  lied  Blue.  "But  I'm  goin'  to 
get  yer  something  better  to-day  —  see  if  I 
don't!" 

"What  you  going  to  get?"  coaxed  Doodles. 

"I  d'n'  know  yet  —  depends  on  how  much  I 
earn."  He  went  off  whistling,  for  the  sake  of 
the  little  brother  who  must  not  guess  that  the 
pantry  was  empty. 

Along  the  warehouses,  beyond  the  school 
district,  Blue  kept  his  truant  way;  but  nobody 
was  in  need  of  an  errand  boy  in  that  quarter, 
and  after  nine  o'clock  he  turned  back  towards 
the  market  section.  Here  he  met  a  man  who 
was  looking  for  somebody  to  hold  his  horse. 

83 


"He's  a  leetle  bit  afraid  o'  them  autos," 
the  countryman  explained,  and  the  boy  well 
earned  his  five  cents  in  the  full  quarter  of  an 
hour  that  he  spent  in  quieting  the  nervous 
animal. 

Blue  went  home  at  the  usual  time.  Nothing 
beyond  the  five  cents  had  been  obtainable,  and 
after  a  good  deal  of  thought  he  had  finally 
exchanged  it  for  half  a  dozen  buns,  arguing 
that  buns  would  taste  better  than  bread  with- 
out butter. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you  bought  buns!" 
beamed  Doodles.  "I  just  love  buns  with  cur- 
rants in  them!" 

The  meager  dinner  waited  until  one  o'clock; 
then,  as  the  mother  had  not  come,  the  boys 
ate  their  share,  feeding  currants  to  Caruso 
and  laughing  to  see  him  snap  them  up  so 
joyously. 

"Mother  must  have  found  work,  don't  you 
think?"  Doodles  asked  a  bit  anxiously. 

"Sure,  old  feller!  Don't  you  be  worryin' 
'bout  that !  She  '11  come  all  right  pretty  soon." 

Blue  loitered  on  a  side  street  until  the 
clanging  of  the  school  bell  had  ceased;  then  he 
boldly  faced  the  throngs  on  the  principal 
84 


THOMAS  FITZPATRICK'S  WHISTLE 

thoroughfare.  He  applied  at  a  dozen  or  more 
offices  for  something  to  do,  meeting  only  curt 
refusals.  Finally  a  man  more  observing  than 
the  rest  asked  abruptly:  — 

"See  here,  why  ain't  you  in  school?  You're 
not  fourteen  yet?" 

"No,  sir,"  admitted  the  boy,  with  a  guilty 
flush.  "I  stayed  out  to  try  to  get  a  job." 

' '  Huh ! ' '  the  man  snorted.  ' l  Bet  yer  belong 
to  the  strikers!  Don't  yer  now? " 

"Yes,  sir;  but  my  mother  had  to  — " 

"Oh!  it's  yer  mother,  is  it?  So  much  the 
worse!  Well,  you  c'n  tell  her  from  me  that  if 
she's  such  a  fool  as  to  give  up  a  good  job  she 
need  n't  send  her  kids  round  here  expectin' 
me  to  support  'em!  Now  scoot,  or  I'll  have 
the  truant  officer  after  yer!" 

The  boy's  eyes  burned  angrily,  and  he  was 
off  even  before  he  received  his  orders;  but  his 
ears  were  sharp,  and  he  missed  not  a  word.  A 
sneering  laugh  followed  him,  and  pressed  the 
injustice  still  closer  against  his  heart. 

Thoughts  of  his  mother's  brave  fight  for 
work,  and  of  helpless  little  Doodles,  uncom- 
plaining in  his  loneliness  and  privations,  sent 
hot  tears  to  his  eyes,  and  he  darted  blindly 
85 


DOODLES 

round  the  first  corner,  as  if  the  very  street 
that  held  his  enemy  were  not  to  be  trusted. 

On  and  on  he  ran,  unmindful  of  his  way, 
until  he  became  suddenly  conscious  of  some- 
thing unusual  in  the  air,  and,  looking  ahead, 
he  saw  a  crowd  of  people  moving  slowly 
towards  him.  That  it  was  an  excited  crowd 
was  evident  from  the  tumult  of  voices, 
mingled  with  shouts  and  yells,  now  plain 
above  the  noise  of  the  street. 

"Must  be  goin'  to  have  a  meeting  —  or  had 
one,"  he  told  himself.  "The  union  hall  is 
down  there  on  Blake  Avenue." 

"Hello,  Rob!"  he  called  to  a  boy  racing  by 
on  the  opposite  side.  "What 'sup?" 

"Oh,  somethin'  fierce!  Better  not  go  any 
nearer!"  the  lad  warned.  "Dad  he  said,  'Git 
out  o'  this  on  the  double-quick,  'less  yer  want 
yer  head  smashed!'  I  tell  yer,  ther'  's  goin'  to 
be  an  awful  row!  Hope  dad  won't  git  killed  — 
my!" 

"Aw,  nobody's  goin'  to  get  killed!  What 
you  talking  about!"  Blue's  face  showed  scorn. 

"Bet  yer  ther'  will,  now!  You  hain't  been 
there,  an'  I  have!" 

"I'm  goin'!"  Restarted. 
86 


THOMAS  FITZPATRICK'S  WHISTLE 

"Oh,  don't!  Wait!  wait  a  minute!"  cried 
the  other,  aghast  at  such  recklessness. 

Blue  halted.   " What  yer  want?" 

"Why,  I  tell  yer,  ther'  's  goin'  to  be  a  big 
fight!" 

"A  fight!  Not  much!  There's  Tom  Fitz- 
patrick  down  there  —  ain't  it?  Looks  like 
him.  Guess  ther'  won't  be  many  shiners  where 
he  is!" 

"Huh!  what  can  one  cop  do  alone!  Ther' 
ain't  another  anywheres,  an',  I  tell  yer,  he's 
got  his  hands  full!" 

"He  can  bring  'em  easy  enough  with  his 
whistle.  He  told  me  how  — " 

"Aw!  he  dassent  blow  it  in  face  o'  that 
mob!  Why,  they'd  knock  him  down  quick- 
er! Bet  they'll  kill  him  anyway! — Oh,  don't 
yer!" 

But  Blue  was  flying  towards  the  tumult, 
and  Rob,  with  one  glance  at  the  on-coming 
rabble,  fled  in  the  opposite  direction. 

Tom  Fitzpatrick  in  danger!  The  thought 
gave  speed  to  Blue's  feet.  As  he  drew  nearer, 
he  could  hear  the  rich  voice,  rising  above  the 
rest,  but  calm  and  steady,  not  a  bit  as  if  its 
owner  were  afraid  of  those  angry  men. 

87 


DOODLES 

"Don't  you  know  you  mustn't  carry 
that?"  he  was  saying.  And  thrusting  at  a  red 
flag,  he  grabbed  and  furled  it. 

With  a  mad  outcry  and  yells  of  "Down 
with  him!  Down  with  him! "  the  crowd  surged 
towards  the  officer. 

At  that  moment,  right  in  front  of  the  fear- 
less Fitzpatrick,  almost  under  his  hands, 
popped  up  a  small  boy. 

"Can  I  help  you?" 

It  was  little  more  than  a  breath,  but 
Tom  caught  it,  and  glanced  down  with  the 
hint  of  a  smile  as  he  recognized  Blue  Stick- 
ney. 

"Sure!  Blow  my  whistle!"  was  the  quick 
answer,  in  a  tone  to  match  the  query.  With  a 
deft  motion,  the  little  instrument  was  in  the 
boy's  hand. 

Thomas  Fitzpatrick' s  whistle!  Blue  could 
scarcely  comprehend  the  truth.  For  the  joy  of 
this  moment  he  would  have  braved  greater 
dangers  than  the  present.  Only  a  few  days 
ago  —  or  so  it  seemed  —  the  kindly  officer 
had  explained  the  uses  of  his  whistle,  telling 
over  his  various  signals.  Blue  remembered 
them  every  one.  Three  sharp  toots,  then  a 

IB 


THOMAS  FITZPATRICK'S  WHISTLE 

long,  long  blast  —  that  was  for  help,  and, 
freeing  himself  from  the  jam,  the  bit  of  wood 
and  metal  was  at  his  lips. 

Above  the  uproar  Fitzpatrick  heard  the  call 
with  inward  relief.  He  had  not  felt  sure  that 
Blue  would  recollect;  but  he  could  scarcely 
have  done  better  himself. 

As  for  the  boy,  he  repeated  it  fearlessly, 
exultingly,  once,  twice,  three  times,  in  swift 
succession;  yet  nobody  interfered.  A  small 
boy  with  a  whistle  was  not  an  unusual  com- 
bination, and  the  mob  had  too  much  else  on 
hand  to  be  interested  in  boys. 

It  was  not  a  brutal  crowd,  but  it  was  ex- 
cited, defiant,  and  reckless.  If  Thomas  Fitz- 
patrick had  not  known  just  how  to  manage  it, 
and  if  four  brass-buttoned  men  had  not  come 
racing  to  his  aid,  —  there  is  no  telling  what 
might  have  occurred.  But  before  the  body  of 
the  throng  realized  what  was  happening  the 
leaders  of  the  disturbance  were  being  marched 
off  to  the  police  station. 

Blue  returned  the  whistle,  and  received 
most  hearty  thanks,  given  in  his  hero's  best 
style.  Then  he  cut  across  an  alley  and  an  open 
lot,  in  a  crow  line  for  The  Flatiron;  he  must 

89 


DOODLES 

unload  his  big  news  at  home  before  looking 
further  for  work. 

He  found  his  mother  already  there.  She 
was  eating  a  slice  of  butterless  bread,  and  she 
looked  so  weary  and  discouraged  Blue  quickly 
inferred  that  her  day  had  been  unsuccessful 
and  that  she  had  begged  further  credit  at  the 
market.  Still  even  this  could  not  rob  his  eyes 
of  their  happy  brightness,  and  hope  leaped  in 
her  own.  But  she  dropped  back  into  dejection 
when  she  learned  the  cause,  growing  only 
mildly  interested  in  the  story  of  the  whistle. 
Doodles,  however,  overflowed  with  enthusi- 
asm and  questions. 

"Was  n't  it  just  lovely  you  happened  to  be 
there?"  he  cried,  his  eyes  a-sparkle.  "Oh,  I 
wish  I  could  have  heard  you  blow  it!  Please 
do  tell  it  over  once  more!" 

So  the  brother  recounted  the  exciting  in- 
cident, almost  forgetting  his  mother's  sad  face 
in  reliving  the  part  that  had  thrilled  him  with 
such  delight. 

"How  much  will  your  papers  come  to  this 
week?"  Mrs.  Stickney  sandwiched  irrele- 
vantly between  sentences. 

"Oh!  I  don't  know,"  began  Blue.  "Yes,  I 
90 


THOMAS  FITZPATRICK'S  WHISTLE 

guess  about  ninety  cents.   You  see,  the  New- 
tons  have  moved  'way  over  west,  and  Mis' 
Dempster  owes  me  for  two  weeks.  I  do'  know 
whether  she's  goin'  to  skip  or  not." 
"Have  the  Sizars  paid  yet?" 
"Not  a  cent!" 
"Do  you  ask  them  for  it?" 
"Oh,  I  ring  the  bell  every  week  —  and  be- 
tween times,  too!  But  they're  gen'ally  out,  or 
if  they  ain't  they  won't  come  to  the  door  if 
they  see  it 's  me  - 
"I,  Blue  — not  me!" 

"Well,  I,  —  and  if  they  do  come  they  say 
they  have  n't  got  it  that  day,  and  so  it  goes." 
"  It 's  too  bad,"  the  mother  sighed.  "I  sup- 
pose you  keep  leaving  the  paper." 

"Of  course.     If  I  didn't  they'd  get  it  of 
some  other  feller,  and  it's  my  only  chance." 

"I'd  go  an'  sit  on  the  steps  and  wait  till  the 
man  came,"  put  in  Doodles.  "Maybe  he  'd  pay 
it.  If  he  did  n't,  I  'd  stay  there  all  day  long, 
an'  if  they  said  to  go  away  I  'd  tell  'em  I  was 
going  to  sit  there  till  they  paid  me.  And  I'd 
stay  an'  stay  an'  stay.  By  'n'  by  the  neighbors 
would  begin  to  ask  what  I  was  there  for,  and, 
of  course,  I'd  have  to  tell  'em,  an'  then  the 
91 


DOODLES 

folks  would  be  so  'shamed  they'd  give  me  the 
money  right  off!"  He  ended  with  a  chuckle. 

Mrs.  Stickney's  face  relaxed  into  a  smile, 
and  Blue  ran  downstairs  laughing. 

On  the  boy's  return  from  his  paper  delivery 
he  found  excitement  in  the  kitchen.  His 
mother  was  crying,  Granny  O'Donnell  was 
endeavoring  to  comfort  her,  and  Doodles  met 
his  brother's  questioning  eyes  with  a  fright- 
ened face. 

"Now,  honey,"  Granny  was  crooning, 
"ther'  ain't  annything  to  throuble  about 
—  it'll  all  coome  right!" 

"What's  up?"  demanded  Blue,  striding 
across  the  room. 

"Sure,  th'  p'lice  ar-re  afther  ye,"  began 
Granny,  but  broke  off  abruptly,  as  Mrs. 
Stickney  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  squaring  her 
boy's  shoulders  with  her  hands  gazed  steadily 
into  the  clear  eyes. 

"You  have  n't  —  have  n't  — "  she  faltered, 
and  then  hid  her  face  against  his  rough  coat, 
and  ended  her  query  with  a  sob. 

"Of  course,  I  have  n't!"  he  ventured  reck- 
lessly. "Though  I  don't  know  what  in  the 
world  you're  driving  at!" 

92 


THOMAS  FITZPATRICK'S  WHISTLE 

The  mother  wiped  her  eyes,  and  swallowed 
hard. 

"A  policeman  —  was  trying  to  find  you. 
He  did  n't  come  up  here,  for  Granny  told  him 
you  were  n't  home.  He  said  you  were  wanted 
at  the  police  station  'right  away ' !  He  did  n't 
know  what  the  trouble  was,  or  he  would  n't 
tell.  You  gave  back  the  whistle,  did  n't  you?  " 

"Sure!  Why,  mother,  don't  you  worry!  I 
have  n't  done  anything  except  what  Tom  Fitz- 
patrick  told  me  to !  It  may  be  the  Sweeneys 
are  makin'  a  fuss  about  the  bird,"  he  mused; 
"but  if  they  are  Tom '11  back  me  up  all  right. 
Now  do  stop  cryin'!" 

"You  must  go  right  off!" 

"Well,  I 'm  goin' !  But  I  wish  you  would  n't 
act  as  if  I'd  stole  a  bank  or  shot  the  Presi- 
dent! I  tell  you,  there  ain't  anything  to  cry 
for  —  you're  nervous!  Poor  little  mother!" 
He  kissed  her,  a  most  unusual  attention  for 
him,  and  then  dashed  away  and  downstairs. 

But  Mrs.  Stickney  darted  after,  calling  him 
back. 

He  came  with  reluctance. 

"What  do  you  want?  You  must  n't  hinder 
me,"  he  objected. 


DOODLES 

"Tell  the  truth,  Blue! "  She  picked  a  thread 
from  his  sleeve,  and  straightened  his  necktie 
with  motherly  care.  "  Whatever  they  ask  you, 
tell  them  the  whole  truth!" 

"Why,  of  course!"  with  laughing  impa- 
tience. "Is  that  all?" 

"Yes.  And  if  they  blame  you  for  blowing 
the  whistle  —  or  anything,  be  sure  and  refer 
to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick.  I  ought  to  go  with  you, 
but  I—" 

"Aw,  it  ain't  necessary!  I'm  all  right. 
Don't  you  worry  about  me! " 

Underneath  his  assumed  bravery  the  boy 
had  no  relish  for  his  errand,  and  he  was  some- 
what dismayed  to  find  that  his  friend  was  not 
visible  at  the  police  station.  Still  he  went 
where  he  was  bidden,  with  no  show  of  fear, 
but  holding  his  head  high,  as  became  the 
blower  of  Thomas  Fitzpatrick's  whistle.  For 
even  the  events  of  the  last  hour  had  by  no 
means  extinguished  the  glory  of  his  afternoon 
exploit. 

The  chief  was  a  burly  man,  with  small, 
shrewd  gray  eyes  set  in  a  hard-lined  face. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked. 

"Blue  Stickney,  sir." 

94 


THOMAS  FITZPATRICK'S  WHISTLE 

"You  are  the  boy,  I  believe,  that  sum- 
moned aid  to  Officer  Fitzpatrick  this  after- 
noon?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  am." 

"Who  is  your  father?" 

"My  father  died  six  years  ago.  He  was 
Julius  Stickney." 

The  chief  nodded  gravely. 

"  You  have  a  mother?" 

"Oh,  yes,  sir!" 

"What  does  she  do?  Does  she  work  any- 
where?" 

"  She  did  work  at  the  Big  Shop,  till  she  had 
to  go  out  on  strike." 

"She  was  foolish  to  do  it."  The  sharp  eyes 
looked  straight  into  those  of  the  boy. 

Blue's  met  them  almost  reproachfully. 
"She  had  to,  sir!  She'd  'a'  been  glad  enough 
to  keep  on !  She 's  looked  everywhere  for  work. 
She  was  in  McCann's  restaurant  till  he  skipped 
—  he  cheated  her  out  o'  'most  three  weeks' 
wages!" 

"He's  a  scamp!  She  isn't  the  only  one 
that  got  left." 

"I  know  that  all  right!"  The  boy  wagged 
his  head  emphatically. 

95 


DOODLES 

"So  you've  had  a  hard  time  to  get  along, 
have  you? "  The  voice  held  a  tender  note;  but, 
on  inspection,  Blue  found  the  eyes  to  be  as 
sharp  as  before. 

"Pretty  hard,  sir."  There  was  no  response, 
and  the  boy,  remembering  his  mother's  last 
injunction,  went  on,  with  a  rueful  little  laugh, 
"Breakfast  ran  short  this  morning,  and  I 
stayed  out  o'  school  to  see  if  I  could  n't  find 
a  job.  Mother's  been  lookin'  all  day." 

"Find  anything?" 

Blue  told  briefly  of  his  morning's  nickel,  as 
well  as  of  his  mother's  ill  success  and  her  in- 
creasing indebtedness  at  the  market. 

"Well,  we  are  under  great  obligations  for 
the  service  you  rendered  the  city  this  after- 
noon, and  there 's  a  little  something  for  your 
supper,"  thrusting  a  bank  bill  into  his  hand. 
"You  can  tell  your  mother  that  it  looks  now 
as  if  the  backbone  of  the  strike  was  bro- 
ken. We've  got  the  leaders  of  the  trouble 
locked  up,  and  I  guess  the  silver  folks  and 
their  other  hands  will  come  to  terms  in  a 
hurry.  Tell  her,  too,  that  we  congratulate 
her  on  having  a  son  that's  got  a  head  on  his 
shoulders." 

96 


THOMAS   FITZPATRICK'S   WHISTLE 

Blue,  red-faced  and  embarrassed,  with 
stammering  thanks,  slipped  quickly  from  the 
presence  of  the  brusque  chief,  and  dashed 
towards  home. 

His  mother  met  him  at  the  top  of  the  stairs. 

"All  right!"  he  shouted.  "Just  see  that!" 
He  flourished  his  reward,  his  eyes  rounding 
from  his  sudden  discovery.  "My,  if  't  ain't 
a  five!" 

Granny,  who  had  lingered  to  give  conso- 
lation in  case  it  should  be  needed,  came  hob- 
bling forward. 

"Bluey,  me  b'y,  I  knew  ye'd  niver  do  anny- 
thing  that  wud  grave  yer  mother's  heart,  an' 
it's  proud  I  am  o'  ye!"  Granny's  hard  old 
hand  caught  Blue's  little  wiry  one  in  a  grip 
more  emphatic  than  her  words. 

Mrs.  Stickney  listened  to  her  boy's  story 
with  growing  joy,  until  when  he  repeated  the 
chief's  message  she  dropped  into  a  chair  and 
hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"What  in  the  world's  the  matter?"  gasped 
Blue. 

"Why,  she's  so  happy!"  piped  Doodles, 
tears  trickling  down  his  flushed  cheeks. 

' '  And  you  too ! ' '  rallied  his  brother.  ' '  Well, 

97 


DOODLES 

if  you  folks  ain't  the  queerest!  Don't  catch 
me  cryin'  on  this!"  He  swung  the  bill  in  un- 
controlled glee,  stopping  abruptly  to  ask  his 
mother  what  he  should  buy  for  supper. 

He  came  home  with  parcels  that  set  Doodles 
excitedly  guessing  what  they  could  be,  and 
when  a  grapefruit — his  especial  delight — was 
uncovered,  the  small  boy  broke  into  a  hurrah 
that  checked  on  her  lips  the  mother's  remon- 
strance at  Blue's  extravagant  purchase.  But 
with  the  marketman's  receipt  in  her  hand, 
and  the  chief's  two  messages  in  her  heart, 
thankfulness  outweighed  all  else. 

Granny  remained  for  a  cup  of  tea,  and  the 
meal  was  as  merry  as  four  happy  people  and 
a  blithe  mocking  bird  could  make  it. 


1C 


CHAPTER  X 


COMFORT   YE,    COMFORT   YE   MY   PEOPLE 


THE  chief  of  police  was  right.  In  less  than 
a  week  Mrs.  Stickney  was  back  at  her  bench 
in  the  Big  Shop,  and  things  were  going  on  as 
before  the  strike. 

Dolly  Moon's  note  came  while  Doodles  was 
alone.  Granny  O'Donnell  fetched  it  upstairs. 
It  was  not  often  that  there  were  any  letters 
for  the  Stickneys,  but  on  occasion  Granny 
was  always  ready. 

"Sweetheart  dear,"  ran  the  lines,  "I  have 
time  for  only  a  word  before  the  mail  closes; 
but  I  want  to  tell  you  that  my  cousin,  Rev. 
Harrison  Savage,  is  to  preach  at  the  Church 
of  the  Good  Shepherd  next  Sunday  morning. 
That  is  so  near  you  —  only  five  blocks  away 
—  I  am  wondering  if  your  mother  and  Blue 
would  n't  like  to  go  and  hear  him.  He  is 
lovely!  People  call  him  an  unusually  talented 
young  man.  I  know  they'd  like  him.  I  wish 


DOODLES 

you  could  go  too !  If  there  were  wings  in  this 
workaday  world  of  ours,  I  'd  fly  straight  down 
to  The  Flatiron  Sunday  morning,  and  I'd 
bring  a  little  pair  of  wings  for  you  —  then 
we'd  flap  along  to  church!  Would  n't  we  have 
a  good  time!  I'm  coming  to  see  you  some 
day,  wings  or  no  wings!  Love — a  thousand 
bushels!  YOUR  OWN  DOLLY." 

It  would  n't  do  to  tell  how  many  times 
Doodles  read  the  note  before  Blue  came  home 
at  noon.  Nobody,  who  had  n't  been  a  lonely 
—  a  very  lonely  —  boy,  and  who  missed  his 
violin  playing  and  his  musical  comrade  as  only 
a  real  music  lover  could  miss  them,  would 
possibly  believe  the  truth.  But,  then,  it  was 
Doodles's  first  letter,  and  the  first  letter  is  en- 
titled to  a  great  many  more  readings  than 
the  thousandth  one. 

Mrs.  Stickney  shook  her  head  sadly  when 
Blue  asked  the  question  that  Dolly  Moon  sug- 
gested. She  had  no  dress  or  coat  suitable 
for  appearance  in  the  fashionable  church  on 
Bliss  Avenue  —  so  she  declared,  and  with 
such  emphasis  that  neither  Blue  nor  Doodles 
dared  to  urge  the  matter. 

100 


"COMFORT  YE   MY  PEOPLE" 

Blue's  church-going  was  limited  to  attend- 
ance at  Sunday-school  —  an  attendance  more 
or  less  regular  according  to  his  clothes,  and 
he  now  decided  that  he  did  n't  care  much 
about  hearing  somebody  preach  that  he 
never  saw,  even  though  he  was  cousin  to 
Dolly  Moon. 

During  the  afternoon,  however,  Mr.  Gaylord 
dropped  in,  and  his  proposal  set  hearts  flut- 
tering and  tongues  flying.  He,  too,  had  re- 
ceived word  from  Dolly  about  her  cousin,  and 
as  his  employer,  Mrs.  Graham,  had  expressed 
her  desire  to  spend  the  coming  Sabbath  at 
home  he  had  obtained  permission  to  use  her 
car  long  enough  to  take  the  Stickney  family 
to  and  from  church. 

The  mother  still  kept  to  her  first  determina- 
tion, and  even  the  inducement  of  an  auto- 
mobile ride  could  not  coax  it  away.  But  Blue 
was  jubilant,  and  Doodles  too  joyful  to  do 
much  more  than  to  beam  silently  on  every- 
body, with  an  occasional  little  burst  of  de- 
light. 

To  ride  in  Mrs.  Graham's  elegant  car!  To 
see  the  grand  Bliss  Avenue  Church,  the  pride 
of  the  city!  To  listen  to  a  sermon  from  Dolly 
101 


DOODLES 

Moon's  own  cousin!  And  —  perhaps  best  of 
all —  to  hear  the  much-talked-of  "Good 
Shepherd"  choir,  the  fame  of  whose  wonderful 
singing  extended  hundreds  of  miles  away!  It 
was  unbelievable!  These  thoughts  —  and  a 
myriad  others  —  danced  in  Doodles's  brain, 
while  Giles  Gaylord  and  Blue  chatted  of  Dolly 
Moon  and  gayly  arranged  such  important 
matters  as  hours  and  minutes. 

Doodles's  mother  looked  grave,  thinking  of 
the  child's  best  suit.  Made  from  one  of  his 
brother's,  it  was  shabby  from  washings  and 
darns;  still  words  would  not  freshen  it,  and 
they  were  wisely  withheld.  So  the  happy  plans 
went  on,  untouched  by  anything  so  com- 
monplace as  clothes. 

For  the  rest  of  the  week  there  were  no  more 
lonely  hours  for  Doodles.  Every  detail  of  the 
coming  event  was  pictured  over  and  over  by 
the  imaginative  boy.  His  mother  and  Blue 
were  called  upon  for  frequent  and  repeated 
descriptions  of  churches  and  church  services, 
for  his  knowledge  of  these  things  was  limited 
to  what  he  could  gain  from  stories  and  illus- 
trations. 

"Oh,  you'll  see  it  all  Sunday!"  Blue  told 
102 


" COMFORT  YE  MY  PEOPLE" 

him  at  last,  his  patience  showing  marks  of 
breaking  down. 

"It  is  nice  to  know  just  how  it  will  look," 
Doodles  replied  innocently.  "Seems  as  if  I 
couldn't  wait  a  whole  day  longer!"  He 
paused  before  venturing  his  next  thought. 
"Do  you — "  he  began,  and  then  changed 
to  the  negative,  "you  don't  s'pose  they'd  have 
any  flowers  —  it's  'most  winter,  you  know  — 
you  don't  s'pose  they  would — ?"  Face  and 
voice  were  anxious. 

The  elder  boy's  acquaintance  with  church 
customs  was  not  intimate,  and  it  was  early 
December!  There  were  greenhouses,  of  course, 
like  June  gardens;  but  —  Blue  was  doubtful, 
more  than  doubtful.  Yet  he  strengthened 
his  brother's  hope  in  no  uncertain  words. 
There  'd  be  enough  else  to  make  up,  he  argued 
in  self-defense,  and  to-day  it  was  important 
that  anticipation  should  be  full. 

The  small  boy  awoke  early.  On  yesterday's 
sunset  horizon  a  bank  of  cloud  had  suggested 
rain,  and  that  was  Doodles' s  first  thought; 
he  hardly  dared  to  look  at  the  tiny  patch  of 
sky  visible  through  the  kitchen  window  from 
where  he  lay.  But  when  he  tremblingly  peered 
103 


DOODLES 

out  from  the  little  dark  bedroom  his  heart 
gave  a  leap  —  the  patch  was  blue!  Smiling 
contentedly,  he  snuggled  down  on  his  pillow. 
What  a  beautiful  day  it  was  going  to  be!  The 
next  tune  he  opened  his  eyes,  his  mother  was 
waiting  at  the  bedside,  and  the  smell  of  break- 
fast came  pleasantly  from  the  kitchen. 

Dressing  took  longer  than  usual,  because 
of  the  unfamiliar  garments,  and  the  spirit  of 
excitement  that  pervaded  everything  —  even 
the  stockings,  which  would  n't  pull  up  straight. 
But  that  and  breakfast  were  over,  at  last,  and 
Doodles  resting  among  his  cushions.  He  was 
wondering  what  the  choir  would  sing,  and 
wishing  their  choice  would  fall  on  "Only  an 
Armour-Bearer"  or  "Jerusalem,  the  Golden," 
—  to  which  tune  his  mother  was  now  putting 
away  her  dishes,  —  when  somebody  knocked 
on  the  door. 

A  uniformed  messenger  handed  Mrs.  Stick- 
ney  a  bit  of  folded  paper. 

She  opened  and  read  the  note,  staring  at 
the  words  with  a  dismayed  face. 

"No,  —  no  answer,"  she  replied  to  the 
boy's  query,  but  without  turning  her  head. 
She  still  stood  there,  looking  down  on  the 
104 


"COMFORT  YE  MY  PEOPLE" 

paper  with  unseeing  eyes,  while  the  messen- 
ger's retreating  footsteps  came  faintly  from 
below. 

"What  is  it?"  Blue  emerged  from  the  bed- 
room, clad  in  trousers  and  a  bath  towel. 

"You  can't  go!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Stickney 
in  disheartened  tones. 

"Why  not?" 

"Mr.  Gaylord  says  —  oh,  read  it  yourself!" 

The  boy  grabbed  the  sheet,  and  the  mother 
crossed  over  to  where  Doodles  sat,  big-eyed 
and  sorrowful. 

' '  You  poor  darling ! ' '  She  took  the  little  face 
between  her  palms,  and  stooped  to  kiss  him. 

"Never  mind!"  he  smiled  bravely,  but  the 
smile  broke,  and  he  hid  his  face  in  her  dress. 

"Dear  People,"  Blue  read  aloud,  "Mrs. 
Graham  has  just  taken  it  into  her  head  that 
she  must  start  for  Windsor  at  ten  o'clock  —  I 
feel  like  turning  turtle,  car  and  all!  If  I  were 
not  too  big  a  boy,  I  'd  do  the  next  thing,  — 
have  a  good  —  or  bad  —  cry.    I  '11  take  you 
to  ride  some  day,  if  I  have  to  hire  a  car  for  it! 
"Tragically  yours, 
"GILES  GAYLOKD." 

105 


DOODLES 

" It's  a  confounded  shame!"  He  flung  the 
note  on  the  floor. 

"BlueStickney!" 

"I  don't  care  —  it  is!  That  woman  can 
go  to  ride  every  day  of  her  life,  and  there's 
Doodles — !  It's  confounded  mean,  and  I'd 
like  to  say  it  right  to  her  face!"  He  swung 
himself  back  into  the  little  bedroom,  and  the 
others  could  hear  him  stamping  off  his  wrath. 

When  he  came  out,  a  few  minutes  later,  he 
was  smilingly  mysterious. 

"Don't  you  go  to  getting  tired,  old  man!" 
he  warned  his  brother.  "We'll  make  that 
church  yet,  if  I  can  work  things  right!"  He 
took  up  his  hat. 

"Oh,  Blue,  don't  raise  his  hopes  again!  You 
know  you  can't  — " 

"I  don't  know  any  such  thing!  We're 
goin',  I  tell  you!  Just  see  if  we  don't!" 

"You  mustn't  do  anything  rash!"  The 
mother  looked  troubled. 

"Aw,  you  wait!  I  ain't  a  fool!"  He  ran  off 
laughing. 

With  the  ringing  of  the  church  bells  Doo- 
dles's  hopes  began  to  fade.  His  trust  in  Blue 
did  not  lessen;  but  even  the  best  plans  do  not 
106 


"COMFORT  YE  MY  PEOPLE" 

work,  and  he  feared  that  his  brother's  scheme, 
like  Mr.  Gaylord's,  was  going  to  fail. 

" Maybe  I'd  get  too  tired  if  I  went,"  he 
observed  philosophically. 

" Perhaps,"  his  mother  assented.  "I've 
been  a  little  afraid  of  it  all  along." 

Doodles  sat  up,  and  bent  forward,  listening. 
The  sound  of  hurrying  feet  was  on  the  stairs. 
More  than  one  pair  were  coming  up. 

The  door  swung  open,  and  in  dashed  Blue, 
followed  by  a  boy  somewhat  taller  than  him- 
self. 

"Mother,  this  is  Joseph  Sitnitsky.  He's 
goin'  to  help  me  carry  Doodles  to  church." 

Mrs.  Stickney  shook  hands  with  the  some- 
what bashful  Joseph,  expressing  a  gracious 
welcome.  Then  Blue  hastened  him  over  to 
the  window. 

"Oh!  you  are  the  one  who  sent  me  that 
apple,  are  n't  you?"  smiled  Doodles,  extend- 
ing a  cordial  little  hand.  "It  was  a  lovely 
apple!  We  all  had  some  of  it — even  Ca- 
ruso!" 

A  soft  whistle  sent  Joseph's  eyes  to  the 
mocking  bird,  and  his  face  brightened  with 
surprise  and  pleasure. 

107 


DOODLES 

"That  him?"  he  exclaimed. 

"Same  old  feller!"  laughed  Blue.  "Would 
n't—" 

The  tolling  bells  recalled  his  thoughts  to  the 
urgent  business  on  hand. 

"Gracious!  but  we  must  hurry!"  he  cried. 
"Where 's  yer  cap,  kiddie?" 

Mrs.  Stickney  brought  it,  with  the  coat 
which  Blue  had  outgrown. 

"I  don't  see  how  you're  going  to  manage," 
—  the  mother  was  tucking  a  handkerchief 
about  the  small  boy's  neck,  —  "I'm  afraid 
he's  too  heavy  for  either  of  you."  She 
glanced  from  one  to  the  other. 

"Oh,  I  could  to  carry  him  in  mine  arms!" 
declared  Joseph  valiantly. 

"But  we're  going  to  make  a  lady-chair,  and 
take  him  that  way,"  put  in  Blue. 

And  so  they  did,  the  mother  watching,  a  bit 
anxious,  from  the  top  of  the  stairs,  and  Granny 
O'Donnell,  in  her  door,  cheering  the  little 
procession. 

The  walk  from  The  Flatiron  to  The  Church 
of  the  Good  Shepherd  was  accomplished  with- 
out serious  mishap.  Once  Doodles  slipped, 
and,  righting  him,  Blue  lost  his  hat;  but  a 

108 


"COMFORT  YE  MY  PEOPLE" 

stranger  returned  it  to  his  head,  and  the  trio 
went  on  again. 

"I  could  to  carry  him  mineself,"  observed 
Joseph. 

"Guess  you'd  better  not,"  Blue  advised. 
"I  tried  it  last  summer,  —  took  him  down  to 
the  Settlement  for  a  concert,  —  I  did  n't  dare 
risk  it  again.  It  was  an  awful  tug!  Mother 
carried  him  out  a  little  way,  one  night,  just 
to  get  the  air;  but  she  had  to  ask  Mr.  Schloss 
to  take  him  upstairs  —  she  was  all  in!" 

"I  could  to  carry  him,"  Joseph  reiterated, 
"sooner  you  gets  tired." 

But  Blue  would  not  confess  to  fatigue,  and 
at  last  the  church  was  gained. 

No  one  was  in  sight.  The  hush  and  empti- 
ness outside  were  forbidding. 

"It's  begun!"  announced  Blue. 

"Won't  they  let  us  in?"  Doodles  whispered 
tremulously. 

"Sure!"  was  the  brave  assertion  —  out  of 
a  dismayed  heart. 

They  halted  hesitantly,  when  up  popped  — 
seemingly  from  nowhere  —  an  automaton, 
dressed  in  Sabbath  dignity  and  an  unsmiling 
face. 

109 


DOODLES 

The  doors  swung  silently  open,  and  they 
were  inside.  Doodles  lifted  his  eyes,  and  his 
fingers  almost  forgot  their  clasp.  It  was  so 
different  from  his  pictures!  The  rich,  sub- 
dued light;  the  great  auditorium,  with  its 
beautifully  wrought  pillars,  peopled  from 
altar  to  entrance;  the  sweet,  thrilling  under- 
tone of  the  organ;  the  reverent  stillness  of  the 
waiting  throng;  —  it  stirred  his  soul  to  awe. 

Directly  they  were  seated,  in  the  second 
pew  from  the  door,  and  Doodles  was  free 
to  gaze  about  him.  The  vast  strangeness  of 
the  place  bewildered  his  little  home-kept  heart, 
and  he  reached  out  his  hand  for  his  brother's. 

"Tired?"  whispered  Blue. 

"Not  much,"  his  lips  smiled,  yet  Blue's 
arm  was  a  grateful  support,  and  he  leaned 
back  in  content. 

Roses  and  music  were  born  for  each  other, 
and  it  was  only  fitting  that  with  the  first  note 
from  the  choir  the  eyes  of  Doodles  should 
catch  the  glory  of  the  altar  —  a  bank  of  ferns 
and  red  roses.  Thus  came  the  twofold  feast, 
and  the  rapture  of  it  would  never  wholly  pass 
away. 

"Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people,"  — 
110 


"COMFORT  YE   MY  PEOPLE" 

it  was  breathed  in  soft  soprano;  " Comfort  ye, 
comfort  ye  my  people,"  repeated  in  sweet 
contralto;  "Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my 
people";  one  after  another  caught  up  the 
words,  until  they  broke  from  the  full  choir, 
a  commanding  strain. 

The  tenor  chanted,  "I  heard  the  voice  of  the 
Lord,  saying,  Whom  shall  I  send,  and  who 
will  go  for  us?  "  It  came  again,  distinct,  sweet, 
thrilling,  .  .  .  "Whom  shall  I  send,  and  who 
will  go  for  us?"  And  yet  once  more,  that 
appealing  call. 

Silence  fell.  Even  the  organ  was  still.  Out 
of  the  hush  rose  an  eager  voice,  "Here  am  I; 
send  me."  Another,  "Here  am  I;  send  me." 
And  another,  "Here  am  I;  send  me." 

Again  the  tenor,  with  the  clear  charge, 
"Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people.  .  .  . 
Strengthen  ye  the  weak  hands,  and  confirm 
the  feeble  knees.  Say  to  them  that  are  of  a 
fearful  heart,  be  strong,  fear  not.  .  .  .  Com- 
fort ye,  comfort  ye  my  people." 

"How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are  the 
feet  of  him  that  bringeth  good  tidings,  ..." 
Flutelike  it  rose,  as  if  a  skylark  heralded  the 
glad  news. 

Ill 


DOODLES 

It  lingered  through  the  interlude. 

Presently  from  the  choir  burst  the  trium- 
phant words  :- 

"Sing,  0  heavens;  and  be  joyful,  O  earth; 
and  break  forth  into  singing,  O  mountains;  for 
the  Lord  .  .  .  shall  comfort ...  his  people." 

With  a  little  sigh  Doodles  saw  the  organist 
step  down  from  his  seat.  It  was  over!  The 
preacher  was  at  the  desk.  He  had  a  pleasant, 
boyish  face;  but  he  did  not  look  at  all  like 
Dolly  Moon. 

Doodles' s  thoughts  would  run  away  from 
the  prayer  to  Dolly  Moon.  Too  bad  she 
could  n't  be  there!  How  well  he  remembered 
the  first  time  she  had  smiled  to  him  —  dear 
Dolly! 

By  and  by  came  more  music,  —  beautiful 
but  brief.  Doodles  wondered  how  it  would  feel 
to  be  singing  with  that  grand  organ. 

"Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people." 

The  small  boy  came  to  himself  with  a  start. 
He  must  not  miss  a  word  of  that  sermon!  Nor 
did  he  turn  again  from  the  speaker  until  the 
end. 

Once,  so  still  was  he,  Blue  thought  him 
asleep,  and  bent  over,  only  to  see  the  earnest 

112 


" COMFORT  YE   MY  PEOPLE" 

brown  eyes  wide  open  though  expressing  for- 
getfulness  of  time  and  place. 

Joseph  looked  across,  and  smiled. 

Blue  smiled  back,  and  gave  his  brother  a 
moment's  wonder.  Then  he  returned  to  the 
amusement  of  looking  about. 

There  was  a  good  deal  to  see;  the  men  and 
women  in  the  choir,  who  whispered  to  one  an- 
other; the  sexton,  who  opened  windows  and 
shut  them;  a  little  boy  who  would  walk  out 
into  the  aisle;  the  diamonds  in  women's  ears, 
which  flashed  rainbow  colors  fascinating  and 
beautiful;  and  a  wee  girl  who  knelt  against 
the  back  of  the  seat  and  made  faces  to  every- 
body. 

Blue  had  had  it  in  his  mind  to  slip  out  of 
church  ahead  of  the  crowd;  but  there  seemed 
no  convenient  moment  for  a  start,  and  the 
postlude  found  the  trio  still  in  the  pew. 

"  We  could  to  go  up  and  see  the  flowers," 
suggested  Joseph  in  a  whisper. 

"Oh,  do!"  beamed  Doodles. 

So  they  waited  and  waited,  for  the  aisles 
were  full  of  people  who  walked  lingeringly 
while  they  chatted  with  their  neighbors. 

It  was  no  easy  trick  to  get  Doodles  into 

113 


DOODLES 

his  hand-chair,  but  it  was  at  last  accomplished, 
and  the  little  procession  made  its  slow  way  up 
the  now  almost  deserted  aisle.  It  was  worth 
the  pains  to  see  the  small  boy's  delight  when 
he  was  halted  before  the  waving  ferns  set  with 
long-stemmed  brilliant  roses.  He  had  never 
seen  so  many  together,  and  he  drew  breath 
after  breath  of  their  fragrance  while  his  eyes 
feasted  on  the  novel  and  beautiful  sight. 

"Seen  enough,  old  feller?"  Blue  queried 
finally. 

"Ye  —  es,  I  guess  so,"  was  the  equivocal 
answer.  He  bent  nearer  the  roses  for  a  last 
whiff  of  their  spicy  perfume. 

"Here,  you  kids!  let  them  flowers  be!" 

The  janitor  had  come  up  the  side  aisle, 
unnoticed  by  the  boys. 

"Who's  touchin'  'em?"  cried  Blue.  "We 
ain't!" 

"Well,  you'd  better  not!"  He  cast  a  sus- 
picious eye  over  the  superb  array,  but  dis- 
covered no  disorder.  "Move on! "he  growled. 
"You've  hung  round  here  long  enough." 

"Gome!  let's  go!"  shivered  Doodles  under 
his  breath. 

"You'd  better  count  'em!"  Blue  flung  back 
114 


"COMFORT  YE   MY  PEOPLE" 

scornfully  to  the  man  who  was  still  hover- 
ing over  the  blossoms  with  anxiety. 

"He  could  to  be  polite,"  was  Joseph's  mild 
comment  when  they  had  passed  out  of  hear- 
ing. 

It  was  a  rude  finale  to  the  inspiring  service. 
Doodles  fought  away  the  tears. 

"Just  one  minute!"  he  pleaded,  as  they 
reached  the  entrance. 

The  organist  was  still  playing,  and,  with 
quick  glances  to  make  sure  that  no  church 
officer  was  in  sight,  Blue  and  Joseph  paused 
for  a  last  strain  of  the  delicious  music. 

"That's  enough,"  announced  Doodles, 
adding,  a  bit  wearily,  "now  we'll  go." 

The  home  march  was  taken  almost  in  si- 
lence. Doodles  was  very  tired. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   PASSING   OF   THE   DANCER 

"BLUE,"  Doodles  began  tentatively,  "you 
know  that  poor  sick  lady  that  Granny  O'Don- 
nell  was  telling  us  about  last  night." 

"M-hm." 

"I've  thought  of  her  ever  since,  and  I  guess 
she  is  one  of  God's  people  that  needs  comfort- 
ing. Don't  you  think  so?  " 

"What?"  scowled  Blue  in  surprise. 

Doodles  repeated  innocently,  adding,  "It 
must  be  pretty  dreadful  to  lie  there  all  day 
long  without  anybody  to  talk  to." 

Blue  nodded,  wondering  what  scheme 
Doodles  was  amusing  himself  with  now. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  think  just  as  I  do,"  the  small 
boy  went  on,  "because,  of  course,  you'll  have 
to  do  most  of  it  for  me." 

Blue  straightened  in  his  chair,  and  began  to 
listen  with  more  interest. 

"At  first  I  did  n't  see  any  way  I  could  com- 
116 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  DANCER 

fort  her,  and  then  I  thought  of  Caruso.  It  was 
his  singing  that  made  me  think  —  oh,  he  sung 
just  beautifully!" 

"And  the  door  wasn't  open,  was  it?"  put 
in  Blue.  "Too  bad!  I  shut  it,  the  hall  was  so 
cold." 

"Door?"  Doodles  looked  puzzled. 

"Why,  the  hall  door!  You  wanted  the  sick 
woman  to  hear  Caruso,  did  n't  you?" 

"Oh!"  Doodles  brightened  understandingly. 
"I  did  n't  think  about  the  door.  Maybe  she 
could  hear  if  it  was  open." 

"S'posed  that  was  what  you  were  drivin' 
at." 

"No!  I  meant  for  you  to  take  him  down  to 
her  room.  You  would  n't  mind,  would  you?" 
The  query  wore  an  anxious  tone. 

Blue's  grimace  would  not  have  encouraged 
a  stranger,  but  Doodles  laughed  contentedly. 
He  knew  his  brother. 

"Caruso  don't  sing  much  now,"  the  elder 
boy  argued  evasively.  "Mr.  Gillespie  said 
they  didn't  in  the  winter." 

"I  know,"  admitted  Doodles.  "But  I  guess 
he  would,  if  I  wanted  him  to.  You  whistle  to 
him,  and  see  if  he  won't." 

117 


Blue  good-humoredly  struck  up  a  tune,  and 
to  his  surprise  and  disappointment  the  bird 
started  into  song. 

"There!"  Doodles  clapped  his  hands  glee- 
fully. 

"Wha'  'd  yer  stop  him  for?"  laughed  Blue, 
for  Caruso  was  suddenly  silent. 

"Never  mind,  he'll  do  it  again!" 

He  did  —  to  the  uneasiness  of  Blue. 

"Do  you  want  to  take  him  now?"  asked 
Doodles  trustingly.  "And  tell  her,  please, 
that  I'd  have  come  myself  if  I  could." 

"I  don't  b'lieve  she'd  care  anything  about 
hearin'  him,"  began  Blue,  feeling  after  an 
excuse. 

"Seem's  if  anybody  would,  'specially  if  they 
were  sick,"  replied  Caruso's  master  plaintively. 
"I  don't  see  how  I  can  comfort  folks  any  other 
way." 

Blue  looked  curiously  at  his  brother. 

"You  seem  to  be  fierce  to  comfort  some- 
body all  of  a  sudden,"  he  laughed. 

"Of  course,  I  am!  Are  n't  you?" 

"Id'n'know  — why?" 

The  clear  eyes  of  Doodles  met  his  brother's 
squarely.  "You  remember  what  the  minister 
118 


THE   PASSING  OF  THE  DANCER 

said  last  Sunday?"  A  touch  of  surprise  was 
in  the  query. 

Blue's  cheeks  turned  a  deeper  red.  "  Guess 
I  was  n't  payin'  much  'tention,"  he  admitted 
honestly. 

"  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye  my  people," 
Doodles  repeated  in  a  soft  voice. 

"Oh,  I  know  that!   The  choir  sung  it." 

"Yes,  that's  what  the  Lord  told  his  mes- 
sengers to  do,  and  the  minister  said  we  all 
ought  to  be  God's  messengers  and  carry  com- 
fort to  people.  So  I  want  to  comfort  that  sick 
lady.  You  see,  I  can't  do  much  comforting, 
but  I  thought  I  could  send  Caruso,  if  you'd 
take  him.  Of  course,  it  won't  be  as  if  I  really 
went  myself;  but  do  you  think  God  will  mind? 
He  knows — " 

"I  guess  it's  you  doin'  it,  all  right,"  Blue 
hastened  to  assure  him.  He  picked  up  the 
cage.  "Come  along,  old  feller,  you  an'  I'll  go 
comfortin'!" 

Doodles  delightedly  waved  them  out  of 
sight,  and  then  leaned  back  with  a  smile. 

Shortly  Blue  reappeared,  but  alone. 

"Oh!  what  did  she  say?  Wouldn't  he 
sing?" 

119 


DOODLES 

"  I  did  n't  try  him.  She  wants  you.  She 
says  she's  heard  you  singin'  hymns  up  here, 
and  nothin'  would  do  but  I  must  come  right 
up  after  you.  Want  to  go?  I'll  take  you  pick- 
aback." 

"You  can't—  so  far!" 

"Yes,  I  can!  I  never  thought  of  it  before. 
Come  on!" 

It  was  the  way  Doodles  often  rode  to  bed, 
and  he  was  soon  on  the  stairs  —  regretting 
in  a  whisper  that  he  had  not  stopped  to  brush 
his  hah-. 

"Your  hair's  all  right,  kiddie,"  Blue  de- 
clared; but  the  small  boy  continued  silent 
misgivings  realizing  that  smooth  locks  were 
not  always  looked  upon  by  his  brother  as 
essential. 

It  was  a  dusky  little  room  which  they  en- 
tered, in  chilling  contrast  to  the  sunny  kitchen 
they  had  just  left.  Caruso  sat  ruffled  on  his 
perch,  the  picture  of  gloom. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you've  come!"  cried  the 
sick  woman.  "  I  've  wished  and  wished  I  could 
hear  that  again  —  '  Jerusalem,  the  Golden,' 
you  know." 

She  lay  quite  still  through  the  singing,  now 
120 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE   DANCER 

gazing  at  Doodles,  now  closing  her  eyes  as  if 
weary. 

"Thanks,"  she  said  at  the  end.  "It  carries 
me  back!  Jim  liked  it  so  much!"  She  turned 
suddenly  to  Blue,  who  was  sitting  on  a  small 
trunk,  Doodles  having  been  put  into  the  only 
chair.  "Do  you  know  what  a  beautiful  voice 
your  brother  has?" 

"Has  he?"  smiled  Blue.  "I  like  to  hear 
him  sing." 

"Oh,  but  it's  a  wonderful  voice!  Never 
taken  lessons,  has  he?" 

"No,"  Blue  told  her. 

"He  ought  to.  But  there's  time  enough, 
tune  enough.  Sing  something  else!" 

So  Doodles  sang  again,  one  hymn  after 
another,  in  response  to  her  repeated  demands. 

"I  wish  Jim  could  'a'  heard  that,"  she 
sighed,  as  the  last  notes  of  "The  Ninety  and 
Nine"  dropped  into  silence.  "Poor  Jim  — 
all  alone!"  With  half-shut  eyes  she  rambled 
on  reminiscently.  "Why  did  n't  I  go  when  he 
wrote  he  was  first  violin  in  the  orchestra!  If 
I  only  had!  But  I  never  dreamed  —  I  never 
dreamed  anything  would  happen!  I  wanted 
to  stay  and  earn  a  little  more,  just  a  little 
121 


DOODLES 

more  —  for  the  baby's  stone.  She'll  have  it 
now  —  she  and  Jim  together.  Carbury  said 
there  was  enough  —  glad  I  got  it!  Carbury '11 
see  it's  done  right  —  he  said  he  would  —  al- 
ways does  as  he  says.  Wish  I  could  be  there 
too!  I  do  want  to  lie  side  o'  Jim  and  the  baby! 
Never  mind!  I  shall  see  them!  'T  won't  be 
long!  Seem 's  if  I  could  n't  wait !  I '11  tell  him 
how  sorry  I  am  I  didn't  go — he  was  al- 
ways good  to  me!  If  I'd  only  been  there!  I 
wish  —  '  A  fit  of  coughing  interrupted  her 
broken  talk,  and  when  it  was  over  she  lay  ex- 
hausted on  her  rumpled  pillow. 

Blue  fidgeted  about  on  the  trunk,  and 
looked  undecidedly  over  at  Doodles;  but  the 
little  brother  sat  motionless,  gazing  at  the 
sick  woman  with  sad,  anxious  eyes. 

She  was  a  girlish  slip  of  a  creature,  with 
a  face  that  might  have  been  beautiful  but 
for  its  lines  of  suffering.  Presently  she 
roused. 

"Oh,  it's  you!"  she  smiled.  "I  thought  it 
was  Somerby  —  I  hate  Somerby!  Please  sing 
some  more  —  I  guess  you  sung  me  to  sleep. 
I  feel  quite  rested." 

Only  a  moment  Doodles  paused;  then  he 
122 


THE   PASSING  OF  THE  DANCER 

began  the  old,  old  hymn,  "  Jesus,  Lover  of  My 
Soul." 

The  woman  lay  with  close-shut  eyes,  and 
once  the  singer  halted,  thinking  she  might  be 
drowsing;  but  she  looked  up  quickly,  with  a 
"Go  on!  Don't  stop!"  and  he  sang  it  through 
to  the  end. 

"Lamb  of  God"  and  "Pass  Me  Not"  left 
her  still  begging  for  more,  and  Doodles  kept 
on  until  he  knew  by  her  breathing  that  she 
was  really  asleep. 

Shortly,  however,  she  awoke,  and  surprised 
him  by  asking  abruptly,  "Should  you  like  a 
fiddle?" 

"Oh,  wouldn't  I!"  exclaimed  Doodles. 
"  Ghristarchus  let  me  use  his  as  long  as  he 
stayed;  but  he's  gone,  and  I  can't  play  any 
more,"  he  ended  plaintively. 

"You  shall  have  Jim's!"  she  cried  passion- 
ately. "Now  I  know  why  I  did  n't  burn  it  up ! " 

The  brown  eyes  of  Doodles  grew  big  with 
horror.  "Burn  it  up?"  he  breathed. 

"Yes,"  she  replied  wearily,  "I  did  n't  want 
anybody  to  have  it  —  I  was  afraid  Somerby  'd 
get  hold  of  it.  Don't  you  ever  let  Somerby 
have  it!"  she  burst  out  fiercely.  "No  matter 

123 


DOODLES 

what  he  says,  don't  you  let  him  have  it !  Prom- 
ise me  that,  promise  me  that!" 

"No,  I  won't  let  anybody  have  it  —  ever!" 
Doodles  said  earnestly. 

She  seemed  satisfied,  and  went  on.  "It's 
a  comfort  to  think  that 's  settled.  It 's  worried 
me  about  Jim's  fiddle.  I  'm  glad  you  're  going 
to  have  it  —  you'll  love  it!  I  wanted  to  give 
you  something  for  singing  to  me  so  beauti- 
fully. It  is  good  of  you  to  come.  There's  no- 
thing else  in  the  trunk  of  any  value,  but  you 
can  have  all  there  is.  It  is  a  nice  fiddle  —  I 
don't  know  how  much  it  cost,  but  a  lot  of 
money  —  my,  how  Jim  idolized  it!" 

"I  had  an  Uncle  Jim  once,"  said  Doodles; 
but  she  did  not  heed. 

"You'd  better  take  the  trunk  right  up- 
stairs now,"  she  went  on  hurriedly.  "No- 
body'11  need  it  —  there's  money  enough 
under  my  pillow.  I  've  saved  plenty  —  oh,  if 
I  could  only  have  kept  on  a  little  longer,  I  'd 
have  had  enough  to  take  me  home  —  I  did 
want  to  lie  side  o'  Jim  and  the  baby!" 

The  cough  seized  her  again,  and  the  parox- 
ysm was  so  violent  that  Blue  took  fright  and 
ran  up  to  see  if  his  mother  had  come  home. 
124 


THE   PASSING   OF  THE   DANCER 

But  the  kitchen  was  empty,  and  Granny,  too, 
was  nowhere  to  be  found. 

When  he  returned,  the  woman  was  talking 
—  a  strange  medley  of  words  which  the  boys 
could  not  piece  together  to  make  anything 
understandable. 

Suddenly  she  burst  into  a  gay  little  song, 
for  a  moment  her  voice  rising  full  and  strong, 
and  then  dropping  into  weak  huskiness.  Spent 
with  the  effort,  she  lay  quiet  for  a  little,  but 
was  soon  singing  again,  sacred  strains  and  rag- 
time ditties  running  in  and  out  of  one  another 
in  startling  confusion. 

The  words  grew  indistinct,  the  notes  halt- 
ing; they  gave  place  to  low  mutterings,  and 
finally  all  was  still.  Blue  watched  the  gentle 
rise  and  fall  of  the  coverlet,  and  at  last  tip- 
toed over  to  his  brother. 

The  woman  opened  her  eyes,  and,  gazing 
earnestly  at  Doodles,  uttered  with  apparent 
effort  the  one  word,  "Sing!" 

So  promptly  did  he  respond,  Blue  breathed 
an  ejaculation  as  he  whirled  himself  back  to 
the  edge  of  the  trunk. 

"A  —  bide  with  me!  Fast  falls  the  ev  —  en  —  tide, 
The  darkness  deepens  —  Lord,  with  me  a  —  bide! 

125 


DOODLES 

When  oth  —  er  help  —  ers  fail,  and  comforts  flee, 
Help  of  the  helpless,  oh,  a  —  bide  with  me!" 

Softly,  distinctly  fell  the  words,  while  over 
the  face  of  the  sick  woman  stole  a  look  of 
peace. 

Blue  found  himself  following  the  hymn 
with  unwonted  interest.  Never  had  he 
heard  Doodles  sing  like  that.  "It's  better  'n 
church!"  he  whispered  under  his  breath. 

"Hold  Thou  thy  cross  be  —  fore  my  clos  —  ing  eyes; 
Shine  through  the  gloom,  and  point  me  to  the  skies; 
Heaven's  morn  —  ing  breaks,  and  earth's  vain  shadows  flee! 
In  life,  in  death,  0  Lord,  a  —  bide  with  me!" 

The  room  was  silent.  The  little  singer 
leaned  back  in  weariness.  Blue,  with  a  glance 
toward  Doodles,  bent  nearer  the  cot.  The 
woman  lay  as  if  sleeping,  though  not  a  flicker 
stirred  the  covers.  Blue's  face  took  on  a  look 
of  awe,  and  noiselessly  he  stepped  to  his 
brother's  side. 

"We'd  better  go  upstairs  now,  you're  get- 
ting tired." 

"She  may  want  me  to  sing  again,"  he  ob- 
jected. 

"No,  she  won't.   She's  fast  asleep." 

Doodles  looked  across  at  her. 

126 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  DANCER 

"Well,"  he  yielded,  putting  his  arms  around 
his  brother's  neck. 

Mrs.  Stickney  had  not  returned,  the  sun 
was  low,  and  the  kitchen  was  growing  shad- 
owy; but  the  warmth  felt  grateful  after  the 
chill  of  the  room  downstairs. 

"  I  '11  get  somebody  to  help  me  bring  up  that 
trunk,"  Blue  decided,  "and  then  for  my 
papers  —  it's  almost  time." 

"Don't  forget  Caruso!" 

"I  declare!  I  had!"  He  dashed  away,  re- 
turning at  once  with  the  bird. 

"Is  she  still  asleep?"  queried  Doodles. 

"Sure!"  Blue  nodded,  and  darted  off  again. 

With  the  trunk  actually  in  the  kitchen, 
Doodles  felt  the  violin  to  be  less  mythical. 
How  wonderful  it  would  be  to  have  one  of  his 
very  own!  He  was  glad  Blue  did  not  urge  the 
boy  to  stay,  he  was  in  haste  to  have  the  trunk 
opened.  But  the  lock  appeared  to  be  an  intri- 
cate kind,  which  Blue  could  not  work,  and  he 
finally  had  to  run  off  for  his  papers,  leaving 
the  trunk  still  closed. 

Doodles  was  not  slow  to  acquaint  his 
mother  with  the  happenings  of  the  afternoon. 

"That  dancer!"  she  exclaimed,  before  he 

127 


DOODLES 

had  scarcely  begun  his  story.  "Have  you  and 
Blue  been  down  in  that  dancer's  room?  What 
possessed  you?  I  should  never  have  let  you 
go  if  I  had  been  home." 

"I  guess  I  comforted  her,"  replied  Doodles 
in  excuse.  "She  seemed  to  like  my  singing." 

"Well,  I'd  rather  you  wouldn't  go  down 
again,"  said  Mrs.  Stickney.  "Nobody  knows 
who  or  what  she  is,  except  that  she  sings  and 
dances  in  some  cheap  theater.  What  was  it 
about  her  riddle?" 

Doodles  told,  and  his  mother  listened;  but 
before  he  had  finished,  Granny  O'Donnell 
called  her  away. 

She  was  gone  a  long  time.  Blue  was  with 
her  when  she  came  back,  and  both  were 
strangely  grave.  After  tea  Mrs.  Stickney  tried 
to  unlock  the  trunk,  but  did  not  succeed,  and 
Doodles  went  to  bed  without  seeing  his  violin. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE   HEART   OF   THE    FLATIRON 

IT  was  Mrs.  Jimmy  George  that  found  the 
road  to  the  heart  of  The  Flatiron. 

"Gracious  me!  what  if  't  was  my  Jim — 
and  my  baby!"  she  wailed,  twisting  her  little 
hard-worked  hands  over  Blue's  story  of  the 
dancer  and  her  passionately-expressed  long- 
ing to  lie  "side  o'  Jim  and  the  baby."  "Why," 
mourned  she,  her  blue  eyes  tearful,  "I'd  'a' 
carried  her  some  o'  my  strawb'ry  jell,  if  I'd 
only  known!  Gracious  me,  ther'  's  sights  o' 
things  we'd  do,  but  we  don't  have  no  chance! 
I'm  awful  sorry!  You  say  she'd  saved  up  to 
pay  her  fun'ral  expenses?  Would  n't  ther' 
be  'nough  to  take  her  out  home?" 

Blue  shook  a  prompt  negative.  "Mother 
says  ther'  ain't,  and  Giles  Gaylord  says  ther' 
ain't.  Wish  ther'  was!" 

Mrs.  Jimmy  George  picked  up  her  whim- 
pering Evangeline,  while  her  forehead  puck- 
ered into  two  little  hard  lines  above  her  nose. 

"  Say,"  she  burst  out  excitedly,"  it 's  a  roarin' 

129 


DOODLES 

shame  to  let  that  poor  thing  be  buried  in  th' 
town  lot,  'way  off  f  m  her  own  folks !  Gracious, 
what  if 't  was  me!  Say,  you  just  tell  Gaylord 
not  to  make  no  'rangements  till  I  see  him!" 

Blue  stared.  Had  Mis'  George  suddenly 
gone  crazy?  "Maybe  he's  started,"  he  said 
slowly.  "He  was  goin'  — " 

"Well,  run  tell  him!  Quick!"  she  urged, 
skipping  across  the  hall  and  disappearing  be- 
hind a  neighbor's  door. 

Mrs.  Jimmy  George  was  neither  a  beauty 
nor  a  scholar;  but  —  as  her  still  worshipful 
husband  often  averred  —  she  was  "game  clear 
through." 

During  the  next  hour  the  peevish  Evange- 
line  was  pacified  only  on  the  fly,  and  for  the 
first  time  in  her  short  life  she  began  to  realize 
that  her  mother  was  not  always  hers  to  com- 
mand. 

At  the  end  of  that  hour  Mrs.  George  as- 
tonished Mr.  Gaylord  by  putting  into  his 
hand  a  teacupful  of  small  coin  gathered  from 
those  residents  of  The  Flatiron  whom  she  had 
been  able  to  reach. 

"An'  you  just  wait  till  th'  men  folks  come 
home  to  dinner,"  she  exulted;  "if  they  don't 

130 


THE  HEART  OF  THE  FLATIRON 

fork  over  enough  to  carry  that  poor  little 
thing  out  to  her  Jim,  I  ain't  no  guesser!" 

Giles  Gaylord  waited,  and  again  the  cracked 
teacup  surprised  him.  How  many  sacrifices 
those  half  dollars  and  quarters  and  dimes 
and  nickels  and  pennies  stood  for  nobody 
knew,  for  they  kept  their  secrets  well.  Some 
were  guessed  about.  There  was  little  Tillie 
Shook,  the  dressmaker  apprentice,  who  had 
been  planning  to  buy  some  "real"  lace  to 
trim  the  neck  of  her  best  frock;  she  finally 
purchased  "imitation  Val."  which  was,  she 
said,  just  as  good  for  her.  Then,  John  Braun- 
ersreuther,  who  supported  his  wife  and  seven 
children  by  driving  a  pair  of  fat  horses  for  the 
brewery,  gave  up  his  cherished  Sunday  news- 
paper for  two  whole  months  —  and  the  paper 
boy  wondered  why.  Leona  Montgomery  and 
Frederica  Schine  suddenly  stopped  patroniz- 
ing the  "movies,"  and  their  fellow-workers 
in  the  box  shop  rallied  them  about  it  without 
discovering  the  reason.  Mrs.  Jimmy  George 
herself  never  bought  the  blue  messaline 
girdle  she  had  been  scrimping  and  saving  for, 
not  even  when  it  was  marked  down,  in  the 
department  store  window,  to  sixty-nine  cents, 

131 


DOODLES 

and  The  Flatiron  respected  her  reticence  on 
the  subject.  But  there  was  no  longer  any 
doubt  that  the  little  dancer  was  going  home 
to  lie  "side  o'  Jim  and  the  baby." 

On  a  cold  December  afternoon  Granny 
O'Donnell  opened  her  hospitable  door,  and 
The  Flatiron  streamed  in,  to  honor  the  loyal 
woman  whom  in  life  many  of  the  tenants  had 
never  seen.  They  came  by  two's,  by  three's, 
by  whole  families;  they  filled  the  room,  they 
overflowed  into  the  hallway,  they  even 
dropped  down  upon  the  stab's,  and  every- 
where was  gentleness,  courtesy,  and  rever- 
ence. The  Curate  of  St.  Mark's  read  the  serv- 
ice for  the  dead,  and  Doodles  sang  "Rock 
of  Ages."  Leona  Montgomery,  in  her  clear 
soprano  voice,  started  "Crossing  the  Bar"; 
but  sobs  soon  choked  the  song,  and  a  girl  from 
the  theater  went  on  with  it  to  the  end. 

"It  was  a  lovely  fun'ral  anyway!"  declared 
Mrs.  Homan,  wiping  her  eyes,  as  the  crowd 
trooped  up  The  Flatiron  stairs,  after  having 
followed  the  dancer  to  the  very  door  of  the 
baggage  car.  "'Twas  a  fun'ral  that  would 
satisfy  any  earthly  mortal,  livin'  or  dead!" 
And  no  one  disagreed  with  her. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

" JIM'S  FIDDLE" 

AFTER  the  dancer  had  started  on  her  long 
journey  to  "Jim  and  the  baby,"  Giles  Gay- 
lord  dropped  into  the  Stickney  kitchen. 

"Lucky  the  theater  folks  knew  her  home 
address,  or  we'd  have  been  in  a  fix.  Kitty 
Blue  —  how  strange  that  she  should  have  the 
same  — " 

"What!"  interrupted  Mrs.  Stickney,  "her 
name  Blue?" 

"Yes.   Did  n't  I  tell  you?" 

She  shook  her  head  absently.  "Blue!  — 
Jim  Blue!"  she  murmured.  Then  she  darted 
across  to  the  trunk  in  the  corner.  "This  has 
got  to  come  open!"  she  exclaimed  decidedly, 
stooping  once  again  to  try  the  key.  "Blue, 
bring  me  the  oil  bottle,  will  you?  I  '11  put  on  a 
little  more." 

Footsteps  in  the  hall  were  followed  by  a 
knock.  Mr.  Gaylord  opened  the  door.  As 

133 


DOODLES 

Mrs.  Stickney  was  inquired  for,  he  passed  out 
at  once. 

"I  am  Mr.  Somerby,  Edgar  Somerby  of  the 
People's  Theater,"  was  the  suave  introduc- 
tion, and  Blue's  mother  found  herself  facing 
a  well-dressed,  smooth-mannered  stranger, 
whose  glittering  eyes  ranged  the  room  even 
while  he  was  speaking. 

"I  have  called  to  thank  you  for  your  kind- 
ness to  our  late  comrade,"  he  began  effusively. 
"We  all  appreciate  it  more  than  I  can  express. 
Unfortunately  I  was  out  of  town  while  Mrs. 
Blue  was  ill,  and  so  did  not  know  when  she 
—  er  —  passed  away.  I  just  heard  of  it,  not  an 
hour  ago,  coming  in  on  the  train."  He  had 
taken  the  chair  offered  him,  and  was  leaning 
back  comfortably.  "This  is  a  very  sad  affair. 
We  all  feel  Mrs.  Blue's  death  deeply.  I  was 
shocked  at  the  news.  We  were  great  chums, 
Kit  and  I.  In  fact,"  he  lowered  his  voice  con- 
fidentially, "I  fully  expected  to  marry  her 
some  day  —  it  has  broken  me  all  up !  She  was 
a  wonderful  dancer!  Ever  see  her  pirouette? 
No?  Too  bad!  She  was  bound  to  be  famous 
if  she'd  'a'  lived.  She'd  been  at  it  since  she 
was  eight  years  old.  Her  mother  was  a  baller- 

134 


"JIM'S  FIDDLE" 

ina  of  some  little  reputation,  I  believe.  Too 
bad  Kit  had  to  die!  Her  toe-dancing  was 
simply  marvelous!  And  to  think  I  shall  see  it 
no  more! "  He  sat  for  a  moment  regarding  the 
diamond  on  his  finger.  Then,  with  a  sigh,  he 
asked  languidly,  "  Did  she  leave  any  effects  — 
er  —  anything  in  the  way  of  musical  instru- 
ments, do  you  know?" 

"I  have  seen  none,"  was  the  quiet  answer. 

The  man  scowled.  "She  told  me  not  long 
ago,"  he  resumed,  "about  a  fiddle  she  had  — 
I  think  it  belonged  to  her  husband.  She  said 
it  was  n't  —  er  —  valuable  at  all,  but  in  case 
—  er  —  anything  happened  to  her,  she  wanted 
me  to  have  it,  simply  as  a  memento.  So  you 
don't  know  what  became  of  it  when  her  room 
was  cleaned  out?"  His  sharp  little  eyes 
seemed  endeavoring  to  pierce  those  which 
faced  him  placidly. 

Doodles  held  his  breath  in  terror.  Must  his 
treasure  be  wrested  from  him  before  he  had 
even  looked  upon  it? 

"I  never  spoke  to  the  woman  in  my  life," 
was  the  easy  answer,  "and  I  did  not  go  into 
her  room  until  after  she  died.  If  there  was 
any  fiddle  there,  I  did  n't  see  it." 

135 


DOODLES 

"Did  you  look  about  much?"  he  ques- 
tioned. 

"Oh,  yes!  We  wanted  to  learn  her  name, 
and  thought  there  might  be  letters." 

"And  you  found  nothing?"  eagerly. 

"Only  a  few  little  articles  of  no  value.  The 
money  for  her  burial  expenses  here  was  in  a 
purse  under  her  pillow." 

"  So  they  told  me  —  and  how  you  made  up 
enough  to  send  her  home.  It  was  extremely 
kind  of  you.  But  I  'm  sorry  about  that  fiddle," 
he  mused.  "I  had  set  my  heart  on  having  it 
—  for  Kit's  sake.  Of  course,  you've  heard 
nothing  of  her  giving  it  to  anybody?"  he  sud- 
denly probed. 

Doodles  went  white.  What  would  his 
mother  — ?  But  she  was  already  speaking  — 
in  that  soft,  even  voice  of  hers. 

"If  she  was  so  anxious  for  you  to  have 
it,"  she  smiled,  "she  would  not  have  been 
likely  to  give  it  to  anybody  else,  would  she?" 
She  met  his  eyes  fearlessly. 

"Well,  no,  —  er  —  she  wouldn't,"  he  ad- 
mitted, with  a  queer  laugh.  "But  in  her  dying 
condition  she  might  have  been  forced  into 
almost  anything,  you  see." 

136 


" JIM'S  FIDDLE" 

"We  are  all  of  us  poor  people,"  said  Mrs. 
Stickney  quietly;  "but  I  don't  know  of  any 
one  in  this  house  mean  enough  to  compel  a 
dying  woman  to  give  up  anything  against  her 
will.  Besides,  if  the  instrument  was  good  for 
nothing,  what  should  a  stranger  want  of  it?" 

Mr.  Somerby  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"They  might  imagine  it  was  valuable.  Some 
folks  are  so  fierce  to  get  the  earth  they  '11  grab 
any  —  er  —  old  thing  that  floats  their  way. 
Then  you  think  there  is  no  use  in  my  ques- 
tioning the  other  residents?  "  He  awaited  her 
answer  with  sharp,  half-shut  eyes. 

"It  would  hardly  seem  so:  but,  of  course, 
you  can  do  as  you  please." 

"Guess  it  would  be  a  —  er  —  waste  of 
time,  though  I  hate  to  give  it  up.  It  is  possi- 
ble Kit  disposed  of  it.  I've  heard  she  was 
hard-pushed  sometimes — too  bad!  I'd  have 
helped  her  in  a  minute  if  she'd  'a'  let  me;  but 
she  was  a  —  er  —  proud  little  minx  —  al- 
ways so  —  er  —  independent.  I  should  like 
one  little  memento  of  Kit,"  he  mused.  "I 
can't  realize  I  shall  never  see  her  toe  it  again." 

He  rose,  and  with  a  lingering  hand-shake 
repeated  his  thanks  to  Mrs.  Stickney  and 

137 


DOODLES 

The  Flatiron,  after  which  he  said  his  good- 
byes. 

When  the  feet  of  Mr.  Somerby  were  actu- 
ally upon  the  stairs,  the  three  looked  at  one 
another.  Blue  threw  up  his  arm  and  whirled 
a  silent  cheer.  Doodles  grinned  delightedly. 

"It  is  well  that  lock  bothered,"  said  their 
mother,  dropping  beside  the  trunk  again. 
"I'm  sorry  he  came.  I  hated  to  quibble  in 
that  way,  but  I  could  n't  see  what  else  to  do. 
We  must  honor  the  woman's  wishes,  at  all 
events.  I  would  n't  let  him  have  it  now  any- 
way," she  ended  under  her  breath. 

"Why,  Doodles  promised  straight  that  he 
•wouldn't  give  it  to  him  or  anybody  else  — 
say,"  Blue  suddenly  burst  out,  "I  bet  he  lied 
about  the  fiddle,  don't  you?" 

"Looks  a  little  like  it,"  she  answered,  still 
working  at  the  lock,  "but  we  can't  tell." 

"We  sha'n't  dare  let  anybody  know  about 
it,  shall  we?"  queried  Blue. 

"They  '11  have  to  if  I  play  on  it ! "  Doodles's 
voice  held  dismay. 

"We  won't  decide  what  to  do  till  we  get  it," 
Mrs.  Stickney  smiled.  "It  does  n't  look  as  if 
that  would  be  very  soon.  I  never  saw  such  a 

138 


" JIM'S  FIDDLE" 

stubborn  thing  as  —  ah!"  At  last  the  key 
turned,  the  lock  clicked! 

She  threw  back  the  cover,  disclosing  a  wavy 
mass  of  pink. 

"My!"  cried  Blue,  " guess  that's  her 
dancin'  dress."  He  held  up  the  fluffy  short- 
skirted  frock. 

"Is  it  there?"  Doodles  bent  forward 
excitedly. 

His  mother  was  lifting  out  more  dresses, 
blue  and  yellow  and  white.  Then  came  a 
long,  green-covered  something  which  sent  the 
color  into  Doodles's  face  and  then  drove  it 
away. 

"Lock  the  door!"  ordered  Mrs.  Stickney  in 
an  undertone.  Which  Blue  did. 

She  laid  the  instrument  across  the  small 
knees,  and  the  boy's  breath  came  fast  and 
fluttering  as  he  lifted  it  from  its  case.  A  look 
of  awe  stole  into  his  eyes  —  his  violin!  his 
own!  He  clasped  it  to  his  heart,  and  bent  his 
head  reverently. 

"Why  don't  you  — "  began  Blue,  and  then 
stopped.  Doodles  was  giving  thanks. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    LETTER 

THE  boys  were  still  examining  the  violin 
when  they  were  arrested  by  a  little  broken 
wail.  They  turned  to  see  their  mother  crying 
over  an  open  letter. 

With  a  bound  Blue  was  at  her  side.  "What 
is  it?  What  is  the  matter?"  he  demanded. 

"  He  was  —  your  Uncle  Jim ! "  She  put  her 
handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  and  began  to  sob. 

"Uncle  Jim?  — her  husband?"  Blue's 
astonished  voice  sounded  strangely  unnatural. 

The  mother  assented.  "I  knew  his  hand- 
writing —  the  minute  I  saw  the  envelope.  I 
was  afraid  of  it  when  Mr.  Gaylord  told  me  the 
name  —  oh,  if  I'd  only  known!  Now  it's  too 
late ! "  She  dropped  her  head  to  the  cruel  edge 
of  the  trunk,  and  wept  aloud.  "It  serves  me 
right!  I  held  myself  above  her  —  just  because 
she  danced  in  a  theater!  O  God,  forgive  me! 
I ' ve  got  my  pay  for  being  so  high  and  mighty ! 
There  I  could  have  found  out  all  about  my 

140 


THE  LETTER 

dear  brother  if  I'd  treated  her  like  a  Chris- 
tian! And  I  left  her  to  die  alone  —  my  own 
sister-in-law!" 

Mrs.  Stickney's  remorse  was  pitiful  to  see. 
Blue  did  not  know  what  to  say,  but  stood 
there,  silent  and  uneasy. 

"  Don't  cry,  mother  dear!"  pleaded  Doodles. 
"You  didn't  know,  and  I  guess  I  comforted 
her  —  so  that's  just  the  same." 

"No,  no,  it  is  n't,  you  blessed  child!  I'm  a 
wicked  woman;  but  I'm  glad  as  can  be  that 
you  went  to  see  her,  and  sung  to  her.  That 's 
my  only  consolation.  And  I  should  n't  have 
let  you  go  if  I'd  had  my  way!  Oh,  what  did 
make  me  so  heathenish!" 

Later,  when  the  violence  of  her  grief  had 
subsided,  she  read  to  the  boys  what  was  doubt- 
less their  uncle's  last  letter  to  his  wife. 

D ,  M ,  Dec.  2,  19—. 

KITTY  DEAREST,  — 

Throw  up  your  hat,  and  give  three  cheers 
for  Teuff  el !  Then  think  of  me  —  first  violin 
in  the  orchestra!  Teuff  el  has  at  last  waked  up 
to  the  merits  of  the  humble.  I  won't  tell  you 
what  he  is  going  to  pay  me  —  good  news  has 
141 


DOODLES 

been  known  to  work  havoc,  and  I  must  dole 
it  out  to  you  in  small  spoonfuls,  for  fear  — ! 
But  there's  the  cutest  little  cottage  waiting 
for  my  word  —  waiting  for  us  —  right  on 
Prescott  Street,  too!  What  do  you  think  of 
that?  Yes,  I  can  afford  it!  You  needn't 
worry!  Don't  stop  to  finish  up  your  engage- 
ment! They'll  let  you  off  —  they've  got  to! 
It  seems  as  if  I  could  n't  wait  to  have  you  in 
my  arms  again!  I  know  you  will  want  to 
work  till  you  have  enough  for  the  baby's 
stone;  but  just  let  me  attend  to  that !  I  '11  save 
every  spare  cent  till  we  have  it.  At  last  I  've 
come  to  the  place  where  you  can  stop  work 
and  rely  on  me.  Only  Heaven  and  I  know  how 
I  have  looked  forward  to  this  day  —  it  has 
been  long  in  coming!  But  I  won't  think  about 
the  past.  Now  you  can  rest!  How  I  have 
rebelled  at  being  obliged  to  let  you  go  on  the 
stage  again!  We'll  hope  that  is  all  over. 
Don't  wait  for  anything,  but  take  the  first 
train  west! 

I  met  Nora  and  Louis  this  morning.  They 

had  heard  of  my  good  luck,  and  were  full  of 

congratulations,  and,  of  course,  wild  to  see 

you.    It  is  almost  tune  for  rehearsal,  and  I 

142 


THE  LETTER 

must  say  good-bye.  Come  just  as  soon  as  you 
can  pack  up,  Kitty  darling!  Send  a  card 
ahead  if  there's  tune  —  anyway  I'll  meet  the 
next  train. 

Good-bye  —  wish  you  were  right  here 
where  I  should  n't  have  to  say  it!  How  could 
I  ever  have  let  you  go !  Your  own 

JIM. 

Mrs.  Stickney  sighed  as  she  folded  the  sheet. 
"It  sounds  just  like  Jim,"  she  declared.  "He 
had  n't  changed  a  mite.  If  I  could  only 
have  seen  him  once  more  —  or  even  heard 
about  him!  I  shall  never  get  over  it!" 

Later,  after  a  little  talk,  it  was  decided  to 
say  nothing  concerning  the  trunk  or  its  con- 
tents. The  family  shrank  from  the  wonder- 
ment of  then*  neighbors  and  the  inevitable 
questions  that  would  follow  the  disclosure.  So 
The  Flatiron  never  knew  what  a  tidbit  of 
gossip  had  been  missed. 

For  a  while  Doodles  could  not  be  coaxed  to 
try  his  precious  fiddle.  He  felt  that  the  man 
with  the  ferret  eyes  had  ears  to  match,  and 
who  knew  how  near  he  might  be  lurking?  But 
as  the  days  passed,  and  he  was  seen  no  more, 

143 


DOODLES 

the  small  boy  gained  courage,  until  finally  his 
desire  conquered  his  fear,  and,  one  stormy 
evening,  he  began  to  play. 

Mrs.  Stickney,  not  having  heard  the  assur- 
ance of  the  giver,  and  her  opinion  being  un- 
consciously colored  by  Mr.  Somerby's  com- 
ments, was  not  prepared  for  the  exceeding 
richness  of  the  tones  that  Doodles  brought 
from  the  instrument. 

Blue  at  once  voiced  his  thought.  "That 
man  was  a  big  liar!" 

"Look  out!"  reproved  his  mother. 

"You  know  he  was!"  he  insisted.  "He 
wanted  to  get  hold  of  that  fiddle,  so 's  to  sell 
it  — I  bet  he  did!" 

Doodles  paid  no  attention  to  the  talk.  He 
was  in  another  world  —  the  world  of  music 
and  rapture. 

"He  ought  to  take  lessons,"  Blue  told  him- 
self over  and  over,  and  even  tried  to  save  up 
his  spare  nickels  for  a  possible  teacher.  Once 
he  appealed  to  his  mother,  but  she  shook  her 
head  with  such  sad  finality  that  he  ventured 
no  more. 

If  Doodles  ever  longed  for  knowledge  be- 
yond his  own  rare  gifts  and  the  little  that 
144 


OXE   STORMY  EVENING  HE  BEGAN  TO   PLAY 


THE  LETTER 

Christarchus  had  taught  him,  the  wish  never 
left  his  heart;  and  Blue  declared  that  he 
played  "  better  and  better  every  day." 

The  Flatiron  took  the  violin  as  thought- 
lessly as  it  took  many  other  things,  and  few 
comments  were  made  concerning  the  acquisi- 
tion of  the  instrument.  That  the  playing  was 
enjoyed  by  all  within  hearing  was  manifest  by 
open  doors  up  and  down  the  corridors,  as  well 
as  from  the  homely  bits  of  approval  that  came 
by  diverse  ways  to  the  Stickney  kitchen. 
These  short,  dark  days  were  Caruso's  silent 
season.  Thus  the  violin  became  Doodles's 
work,  play,  comrade,  and  comforter,  during 
the  long  hours  while  his  mother  and  Blue 
were  away. 


CHAPTER  XV 

HOSPITAL   DAYS 

IT  was  on  a  cold  April  morning  that  Mrs. 
Stickney  awoke  feeling  very  ill.  The  exertion 
of  dressing  increased  her  distress,  and  after 
rousing  Blue  she  lay  down  again. 

He  kindled  the  fire,  filled  the  teakettle,  and 
dressed  Doodles. 

"I  don't  see  why  I  should  be  sick,"  she 
worried.  "I  was  well  enough  last  night  when 
I  went  to  bed.  I  cannot  go  to  the  shop  if  this 
pain  does  n't  let  up." 

"You'll  feel  better  when  you've  had  some 
breakfast,"  Blue  told  her  cheerfully;  but  her 
reply  was  a  sudden  wince,  and  only  with  a 
mighty  effort  did  she  keep  from  groaning 
aloud. 

The  boy  had  so  often  assisted  about  the 
meals  that  he  worked  without  awkwardness  or 
delay,  and  presently  he  had  a  slice  of  toast 
delicately  browned  and  the  tea  simmering 
fragrantly.  Yet  Mrs.  Stickney  could  not  eat; 
146 


HOSPITAL  DAYS 

she  leaned  back  in  her  rocker,  white  with 
suffering. 

Remedy  after  remedy  was  of  no  avail,  and 
finally  Blue  ran  down  to  ask  Granny  O'Don- 
nell  what  should  be  done. 

Granny  limped  upstairs  at  once,  and  soon 
coaxed  the  sick  woman  to  sip  a  steaming  herb 
drink,  one  of  her  favorite  cure-alls. 

"It  seems  as  if  I  did  feel  a  little  easier,"  was 
the  verdict  at  school  tune;  so  Blue  went 
whistling  down  the  street  in  the  belief  that 
his  mother  would  speedily  recover. 

At  noon,  however,  he  opened  the  kitchen 
door  on  a  sorrowful  group,  Granny,  Mrs. 
Jimmy  George,  and  Doodles.  Granny  was 
anxiously  endeavoring  to  be  calm,  but  the 
other  two  were  weeping  openly.  Evangeline, 
in  her  mother's  arms,  unnoticed  in  the  strain 
of  the  moment,  was  blissfully  engaged  in  the 
forbidden  delight  of  pulling  down  her  mother's 
hair. 

Blue  turned  to  Granny,  a  woeful  question 
in  his  eyes. 

"I'm  awful  sorry  for  yer!"  began  Mrs. 
Jimmy  —  "Goodness  gracious,  Evangeline 
George,  what  are  you  doin'!"  She  gathered 

147 


DOODLES 

together  her  falling  tresses,  administering  a 
tiny  slap  to  the  pouting  culprit.  "If  that  kid 
ain't  a  terror!  I'm  wonderin'  all  day  long 
what  she'll  be  up  to  next!" 

"She's  in  th'  bidroom,"  nodded  Granny  to 
Blue,  across  the  now  wailing  Evangeline. 
"Don't  ye  go  to  worryin',  me  dear!  'T  ain't 
goin'  to  be  mooch,  likely!" 

He  waited  for  no  more,  but  darted  to  the 
half-shut  door,  pushed  it  wide,  and  went 
in. 

His  mother  held  out  her  hand.  "My  poor 
boy!"  she  said  tremulously. 

"What  is  it?"  he  managed  to  ask. 

"I've  got  to  go  to  the  hospital  and  have  an 
operation!  I  sent  for  the  doctor  —  I  grew  so 
much  worse  —  Granny  said  I  must  —  so  she 
asked  Donovan  to  telephone.  He  said  right 
away  I'd  got  to  go  —  oh,  it  seems 's  if  I 
couldn't!  What  will  you  do  —  you  and 
Doodles?" 

"When  you  goin'?" 

"At  half-past  one." 

"Not  to-day?"  with  alarmed  emphasis. 

"Yes.  The  doctor  said  it  was  my  only 
chance."  Her  voice  broke  and  then  steadied 
148 


HOSPITAL  DAYS 

again.  "I  am  not  afraid;  but  you — "  she 
baited  for  composure. 

" Don't  mind  me!"  Blue  spoke  out  bravely. 
"Doodles  and  I  will  be  all  right.  You  won't 
have  to  be  gone  long." 

"He  says  a  week  or  ten  days  even  if  all  goes 
well."  She  fingered  her  shawl  fringe  nerv- 
ously. "Sit  down  here  a  minute,"  pulling 
gently  at  his  sleeve. 

He  dropped  to  the  edge  of  the  bed,  while 
she  went  on  hesitantly. 

"I  wanted  to  say,  if  I  —  if  anything  should 
happen,  you'll  take  care  of  Doodles  and  keep 
him  with  you  —  as  long  as  you  live?" 

"Of  course,  I  will,  mother!  But  there 
is  n't  goin'  to  anything  happen!" 

"You  can  never  tell!  The  doctor  admitted 
there  is  danger.  And  —  if  I  should  n't  come 
back,  I  want  you  always  to  do  right  and  grow 
up  to  be  just  as  good  a  man  as  you  know  how 
to  be.  Go  to  Sunday  school,  and  to  church, 
too,  when  you  can!  I  wish  now  I  'd  have  gone 
myself,  and  not  thought  of  clothes  or  being 
tired  —  well,  if  God  gives  me  another  chance 
I'll  try  to  do  better."  She  sighed.  "I  guess  I 
have  n't  set  you  a  very  good  example  — " 

149 


DOODLES 

' '  You  have  too ! "  Blue  burst  out.  "  You  're 
all  right!" 

The  mother  put  his  hand  to  her  lips,  and 
held  it  there. 

"You're  a  good  boy  now,"  she  resumed, 
"and  I  want  you  to  keep  so.  Don't  ever  drink 
or  swear!  Read  your  Bible  every  day,  and 
never  forget  your  prayers  night  and  morn- 
ing!" 

"Don't  you  worry!"  Blue  said  huskily. 
"I'll  do  all  you  want  me  to." 

"I'm  sure  you'll  do  your  best,  but  if  I'm 
not  here  to  help,"  she  shook  her  head  slowly, 
"I  don't  see  how  you're  going  to  get  along. 
The  town  may  want  to  send  you  both  to  the 
asylum,  and  I  'm  afraid  Doodles  would  n't  be 
happy  there  —  oh,  I  ought  not  to  worry!  God 
will  take  care  of  you,  but  I  can't  help  feeling 
anxious.  At  any  rate,  keep  Doodles  with  you! 
You  will,  won't  you?" 

"I'd  like  to  see  anybody  try  to  get  him 
away  from  me!"  scouted  Blue.  "He'd  wish 
he  was  out  o'  the  tussle  before  he  was  many 
minutes  older!" 

The  mother  smiled  faintly.  "All  right!" 
she  agreed.  "I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way. 
150 


HOSPITAL  DAYS 

I've  always  tried  to  make  it  as  easy  for 
Doodles  as  I  could,  and  I  know  you  do." 

They  sat  in  silence  for  a  long  moment. 
Then  she  resumed,  " There's  four  dollars  in 
my  purse;  that'll  last  you  a  while.  The  rent 
is  paid  for  nearly  a  month  more,  and  all  you  '11 
want  is  food.  Don't  spend  for  anything  un- 
necessary, but  buy  what  you  need  to  keep  well 
and  strong." 

"I  guess  I  shall  do  it  all  up  straight,"  Blue 
reassured  her.  "Say,  how  you  going  to  get 
over  to  the  hospital?  It's  a  good  way,  and 
you  ain't  able  to  walk  - 

"The  doctor  said  he'd  send  somebody 
with  a  car  —  another  doctor,  I  believe.  He 
thought  it  would  be  easier  than  the  ambu- 
lance. He  told  me  to  be  very  careful  going 
downstairs,  and  to  keep  still  till  I  went." 

"Ye'd  betther  be  takin'  a  bite  befure  long 
—  it's  all  riddy,"  broke  in  Granny's  gentle 
voice. 

Mrs.  Stickney  could  eat  nothing,  but  Blue 
went  as  bidden,  and  tried  to  keep  up  a  brave 
show,  for  the  sake  of  Doodles. 

The  afternoon  was  dreary.  Blue  would  not 
go  to  school,  but  stayed  with  his  brother 

151 


DOODLES 

except  for  the  short  time  that  he  raced  over 
his  paper  route.  It  had  been  arranged  for  him 
to  go  to  the  hospital  at  six  o'clock,  to  learn 
how  his  mother  had  borne  her  operation  and, 
possibly,  to  see  her  for  a  moment.  But  an 
entirely  unprecedented  accident  delayed  him. 
At  half-past  five  the  clock  stopped,  and  it  was 
not  discovered  until  long  after  six.  Then  Blue 
caught  up  his  cap,  and  started  on  a  hard  run. 

It  was  a  hot  and  breathless  boy  that  at  last 
halted  on  the  hospital  steps  and  pushed  the 
bell  button. 

"It  is  too  late,"  the  attendant  answered. 
"You  cannot  be  admitted  to-night." 

"But  I  want  to  know  how  my  mother  is,  — 
Mrs.  Stickney,"  faltered  Blue. 

At  the  moment  a  girl  was  crossing  the  hall, 
and  turned  towards  the  other  with  the  quick 
query,  "How  is  she?" 

"On  the  verge  of  collapse!"  was  the  low 
reply.  "Dr.  Grace  says  she'll  never  come 
out  of  it;  she  can't  last  till  morning!" 

A  gust  of  wind  swept  through  the  long  hall, 

swinging   the   door  together.    It   shut  with 

a  snap,  and  Blue,  stunned  by  what  he  had 

heard,  walked  slowly  down  to  the  big  gate. 

152 


HOSPITAL  DAYS 

How  could  he  go  home  to  Doodles  with  such 
news !  The  nurse  must  have  meant  his  mother, 
yet  would  they  have  been  so  cruel  as  to  refuse 
him  admittance  and  then  coolly  let  him  know 
that  she  would  die  before  morning?  It  was 
too  horrible!  He  walked  on  and  on  and  on, 
his  mind  in  a  tumult.  When,  finally,  he  took 
notice  of  his  surroundings,  he  could  not  tell 
where  he  was.  A  policeman  set  him  right,  and 
with  a  sick  heart  he  turned  towards  home. 
Home!  The  name  mocked  him!  It  would 
never  be  home  if  his  mother  did  not  come 
back.  One  faint  ray  of  light  pierced  the  black- 
ness of  his  soul,  —  the  woman  might,  possibly, 
have  referred  to  somebody  else!  If  he  could 
only  know!  But  there  was  no  way  of  finding 
out  before  morning,  and  a  night  of  such  sus- 
pense might  kill  Doodles.  His  feet  lagged  as 
they  neared  the  home  corner.  He  felt  that  he 
could  not  face  his  brother  with  the  uncertain 
story.  What  should  he  do?  He  turned,  and 
began  to  walk  back  the  way  he  had  come. 
Suddenly  there  came  to  his  mind  the  name  of 
Dr.  Hudson,  the  physician  his  mother  had 
called  —  he  would  know!  Of  course,  he 
would!  His  office  was  in  the  bank  block,  not 

153 


DOODLES 

three  squares  away!  He  struck  into  a  run,  and 
did  not  stop  until  he  stood  at  the  entrance  of 
the  building.  He  searched  for  the  number  of 
the  office,  and  was  carried  up  in  the  elevator. 

The  door  was  locked.  A  card  bore  the  in- 
formation, "Gone  to  dinner.  Back  at  8.00." 

Blue  read  it  disconsolately.  Should  he  wait? 

"If  I  knew  where  he  lived,"  he  muttered, 
"I'd  go  to  his  house."  His  next  thought  was 
to  find  out,  and  in  a  moment  he  was  consulting 
a  directory  in  one  of  the  shops  below.  Pres- 
ently he  was  on  his  long  way  to  1062  Garden 
Street;  but  when  he  reached  the  place  he  was 
again  disappointed. 

The  Polish  maid  who  answered  his  ring 
told  him,  with  hesitation  and  many  gestures, 
"Doctor  not  home  —  dinner  —  he  go ! " 

"What  shall  I  do?  "involuntarily  passed  the 
boy's  lips. 

"What  is  it,  Mary?"  A  lady  was  coming 
downstairs. 

"I  wanted  to  see  the  doctor,  and  find  out 
how  my  mother  is!"  Blue  cried  eagerly. 

"Dr.  Hudson  will  be  back  in  a  short  tune, 
I  think.  Will  you  come  in  and  wait?" 

The  sympathetic  voice  and  manner  were 
154 


HOSPITAL  DAYS 

winning,  and  Blue  was  soon  seated  in  the 
physician's  office,  answering  the  lady's  ques- 
tions and  telling  his  story. 

"We  need  not  wait  for  Doctor,"  Mrs.  Hud- 
son decided.  "I  think  we  can  find  out  now." 

She  crossed  to  the  telephone,  and  Blue  sat 
tense,  his  heart  quickening,  as  she  called  the 
hospital  number  and  gave  her  inquiry.  What 
would  be  the  answer? 

A  happy  " She's  all  right!"  was  flung  in  his 
direction;  then  the  telephoning  continued. 

Before  the  boy  had  recovered  his  poise,  the 
doctor's  wife  was  at  his  side. 

"What  you  overheard  must  have  referred 
to  some  one  else.  They  say  that  your  mother's 
operation  was  a  success,  and  that  she  has  come 
out  of  the  anaesthetic  better  than  they  expected. 
I  am  so  glad  for  you !  Now  you  will  have  good 
news  for  the  little  brother  at  home! " 

She  had  thoughtfully  arranged  for  him  to 
be  admitted  to  the  hospital  ward  early  the 
next  morning,  and  he  left  the  house  with  the 
touch  of  her  motherly  hand  still  upon  his 
shoulder  and  the  sound  of  her  cheering  voice 
still  in  his  ears. 

Mrs.  Stickney  did  not  return  home  in  a 

155 


DOODLES 

week,  as  the  boys  had  hoped,  and  Doodles 
longed  for  his  mother  with  a  craving  that 
Blue,  who  visited  her  regularly,  every  day, 
could  scarcely  comprehend. 

"  She  '11  be  here  in  a  week  or  so,  old  feller  — 
don't  you  worry!"  the  elder  brother  would 
laugh,  and  then  drop  it  from  his  mind. 

But  Giles  Gaylord  understood.  His  mother's 
life  had  gone  out  in  a  hospital,  and  his  heart 
yearned  for  the  lonely  little  lad.  Accordingly 
he  laid  plans,  and  on  a  sunny  afternoon  he 
astonished  Doodles  by  running  in  briskly  and 
asking  if  he  would  like  a  ride. 

4 'Now?"  cried  the  boy,  his  face  alight  with 
dawning  joy. 

' '  Right  now ! ' '  was  the  gay  answer.  ' '  Car 's 
at  the  door!" 

Doodles  did  not  guess  of  then1  destination 
until  they  stopped  at  the  great  white  building, 
and  only  then  when  he  saw  the  words  over 
the  door,  "St.  Luke's  Hospital." 

Barriers  had  a  pleasant  way  of  falling  before 
Giles  Gaylord's  smile;  so  now,  although  it 
was  not  a  visiting  hour,  he  walked  in  at  the 
big  door,  with  Doodles  in  his  arms,  up  the 
broad  stairway,  and  down  the  ward  straight 

156 


HOSPITAL  DAYS 

to  the  window  where  Mrs.  Stickney  sat  read- 
ing. 

"Mother!"  It  was  scarcely  more  than  a 
murmur,  but  to  the  young  man  all  the  terror 
and  joy  and  longing  of  the  last  ten  days  were 
blended  in  the  one  word. 

The  call  had  to  be  short;  but  it  was  full  of 
happiness,  and  presently  Doodles  was  in  the 
car  again,  gliding  out  into  the  greening  coun- 
try where  blossoms  of  gold  starred  the  fields 
and  roadsides. 

They  did  not  talk  much.  The  radiant  little 
face  beside  him  was  enough  for  the  driver, 
who  had  always  a  spare  hand  to  tuck  in  the 
robe  whenever  it  fell  away  from  the  slight 
form.  Once  or  twice  he  called  the  boy's  atten- 
tion to  some  rare  bit  of  landscape;  but  for  the 
most  part  the  way  was  silent. 

At  a  tiny  house  on  a  green  knoll  the  car 
stopped. 

1 '  Where  are  we  going  now? ' '  queried  Doodles. 
But  Mr.  Gaylord  only  laughed  mysteriously 
as  he  lifted  him  out. 

In  a  moment  the  little  lad  was  seated  in  a 
quaint,  old-fashioned  room  with  a  sanded 
floor  and  queer  little  tables  and  straight-backed 

157 


DOODLES 

chairs.  The  tables  were  laid  with  dainty  white 
china  and  shining  old  silver,  and  right  in  the 
middle  of  each  was  a  glass  boat  filled  with 
dandelions.  A  young  girl  in  white  cap  and 
apron  brought  in  a  pitcher  of  milk  and  some 
odd-shaped  biscuits,  with  a  dish  of  cookies 
and  buns.  Then  he  suddenly  remembered 
that  he  was  very  hungry.  Did  anything  ever 
taste  so  good!  Weariness  flew  away  on  wings 
of  magic.  Tongues  grew  merry,  and  soft 
laughter  became  so  infectious  that  the  pretty 
serving-maid  smiled  happily  to  herself  just 
beyond  the  door.  It  was  a  wonderful  little 
feast.  And  the  ride  back  to  town  —  well, 
there  was  never  such  a  ride,  Doodles  thought. 

They  found  Blue  at  home  and  hunting, 
with  a  vague  fear,  for  his  missing  brother. 

"I  wish  you  could  see  how  many  thank- 
you's  I  feel,"  Doodles  said,  as  Mr.  Gaylord 
set  him  carefully  among  his  cushions;  "but 
you  couldn't  hold  them  all  —  they'd  spill 
over.  I  think  you  must  be  one  of  God's  com- 
forters." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

CAEUSO   SINGS  IN   PUBLIC 

CARUSO  was  in  fullest  song  now  that  spring 
was  in  town,  and  he  did  all  that  he  could  to 
cheer  his  best  friends.  His  task  was  hard,  and, 
whether  he  perceived  its  difficulties  or  not,  he 
sang  from  dawn  to  dark,  and  did  not  even 
stop  at  night  whenever  the  moon  gave  him 
light  to  sing  by.  Yet,  much  as  they  loved  the 
songster  and  his  music,  the  Stickney  family 
could  not  be  won  over  to  forgetfulness  of  the 
real  trouble  that  shadowed  them. 

The  mother  gained  but  slowly,  the  third 
week  at  home  found  her  still  unable  to  work, 
and  the  question  that  constantly  confronted 
her  was,  "What  will  become  of  us?" 

Granny  O'Donnell,  whose  income  was 
ample  for  her  slender  needs,  had  been  an  ac- 
tual fairy  godmother  to  the  boys  during  those 
lonely  hospital  days,  and  now  she  was  con- 
tinually cooking  more  food  than  she  could 
eat,  and  bringing  the  surplus  up  to  the  Stick- 
159 


DOODLES 

ney  kitchen.  Frequently,  too,  small  bills 
would  be  discovered  hiding  under  a  plate  of 
doughnuts,  a  pan  of  rice,  or  a  pot  of  beans. 
Mrs.  Stickney  felt  that  this  must  not  be  al- 
lowed too  long,  and  if  she  could  not  work  — 
what  then?  The  worry  was  kept  from  Doodles 
as  much  as  possible,  yet  his  mother  saw  with 
a  heartache  that  he  was  graver  than  usual, 
and,  in  consequence,  she  sang  when  it  would 
have  been  easier  to  cry,  hoping  night  after 
night  that  the  next  morning  would  see  the  re- 
turn of  her  old  strength. 

After  a  little  she  did  gain  sufficiently  to 
permit  her  to  resume  her  place  in  the  shop; 
but  she  found  it  impossible  to  work  at  her 
former  speed,  and  her  weekly  envelope  some- 
times held  less  than  half  her  usual  pay. 

"Say,  mother!"  Blue  burst  in  with,  on  a 
May  afternoon,  "Miss  Holcomb  wants  to 
know  if  Doodles  and  Caruso  can  come  up 
to  the  settlement  to-night.  They're  going  to 
have  a  concert,  and  they  want  Doodles  to 
play  and  Caruso  to  sing  — yes,  and  Doodles 
to  sing,  too!" 

"Why,  I  — don't  know,"  Mrs.  Stickney 
began,  glancing  uncertainly  towards  the 

160 


CARUSO  SINGS  IN  PUBLIC 

cushioned  chair.  But  the  boy's  face  decided  it, 
radiant  as  it  was  with  the  sudden  prospect. 
"I  guess  it  won't  hurt  him,"  she  finished. 

They  started  at  seven  o'clock,  Blue  and 
Joseph  Sitnitsky  with  Doodles  between  them, 
and  Mrs.  Stickney  carrying  Caruso  and  the 
violin.  Fears  that  strange  surroundings  and 
the  somewhat  noisy  crowd  might  frighten  the 
little  gray  singer  into  silence  were  presently 
forgotten,  for  as  soon  as  the  lights  went  low 
and  the  cage  was  placed  in  the  bright  rays  of 
the  full  moon  the  slim  bird  began  his  wonder- 
ful song. 

The  audience,  having  been  warned  against 
demonstrations,  was  almost  mouselike  in 
quietness,  and  the  singer  went  on  and  on  as 
carelessly  merry  as  if  he  were  caroling  in  the 
home  kitchen.  A  few  of  his  hearers  knew  what 
to  expect  from  him,  but  to  the  majority  his 
marvelous  singing  was  as  novel  as  it  was  en- 
tertaining. When,  at  last,  he  broke  off  sud- 
denly to  scold  at  a  tiny  girl  who  had  strayed 
from  her  mother  and  too  near  his  cage,  the 
assembly  burst  into  such  applause  as  was  un- 
usual even  at  the  concerts  of  the  Cherry  Street 
Settlement. 

161 


DOODLES 

After  that  Doodles  sang  "Old  Folks  at 
Home,"  and  was  encored  so  heartily  and  so 
long  that  he  gave  "Edinboro  Town,"  one  of 
his  mother's  favorites  when  she  was  in  a  gay 
mood.  Further  along  on  the  programme  he 
played  several  simple  melodies  on  his  violin, 
and  as  he  slipped  into  "Annie  Laurie"  he 
glanced  towards  Caruso,  whose  cage  had  been 
set  back  into  the  shadow.  Quite  as  if  await- 
ing a  signal,  the  bird  struck  into  tune,  and 
away  they  soared  together,  the  mocker  and 
the  violin,  to  the  uncontrolled  delight  of  the 
audience. 

After  the  entertainment  Caruso  held  an 
impromptu  reception,  for  everybody  wanted  a 
closer  view  of  the  slim  gray  bird  with  the  aston- 
ishing powers  of  song.  Many  questions  were 
asked  for  Doodles  to  answer,  and  the  small 
boy  reached  home  too  excited  to  do  anything 
but  talk.  It  was  long  after  midnight  before 
he  could  sleep. 

"I  ought  to  have  known  better  than  to  let 
him  go,"  regretted  the  mother;  but  Blue 
argued,  "It  won't  hurt  him!  Will  it,  old  fel- 
ler?" And  Doodles,  his  eyes  shining  out  of 
his  weariness,  declared  in  favor  of  his  brother. 
162 


CARUSO  SINGS  IN  PUBLIC 

But  in  the  early  morning  he  awoke  in  un- 
usual pain,  and  it  was  only  after  his  mother 
had  dosed  him  again  and  again  with  a  soothing 
remedy  that  he  fell  into  slumber.  Yet  he  in- 
sisted on  being  dressed  in  tune  to  eat  break- 
fast with  the  others,  especially  that  he  might 
better  enjoy  the  corn  cake  which  Granny  had 
brought  up  to  them. 

"This  will  fix  you  out  all  right,"  Blue  told 
him,  his  mouth  full  of  the  dainty. 

Doodles  nodded,  with  a  brave,  wan  little 
smile.  "It  was  nice  for  Granny  to  give  it  to 
us,"  he  said. 

"Granny's  the  girl  for  me!"  declared  Blue, 
swimming  his  own  and  Doodles's  piece  in 
the  maple  syrup  which  had  accompanied  the 
cake. 

"  She 's  the  best  friend  we  have,"  his  mother 
agreed.  "Don't  pour  on  so  much,  Blue!  We 
must  be  careful  — " 

Blue  understood  the  unfinished  sentence. 
Yet  he  said,  "Doodles  and  I  like  'much,'  don't 
we,  kiddie?"  Then  he  set  the  pitcher  aside, 
and  ate  his  second  helping  without  replenish- 
ment of  the  sweet. 

Doodles  dozed  away  an  hour  or  two  of 

163 


DOODLES 

the  long  forenoon,  and  was  beginning  to  feel 
quite  rested  when  a  knock  announced  a 
caller. 

To  his  cheery  "Come  hi!"  the  door  opened 
upon  a  woman,  —  a  stocky,  youngish  woman, 
with  pale  blue  eyes,  heavy  cheeks,  and  a  dou- 
ble chin.  She  swept  across  to  the  cushioned 
chair. 

"How  d' ye  do!  I  thought  I'd  find  you  at 
home,"  with  strong  emphasis.  "I  was  at  the 
concert  last  night,"  she  went  on,  seating  her- 
self somewhat  laboriously  in  the  offered  chair; 
"perhaps  you  remember  me." 

Doodles  gave  a  smiling  assent.  He  could 
hardly  have  forgotten  that  plumed  hat  with 
its  gorgeous  pins,  the  shimmering  green  satin 
gown,  and,  —  when  she  had  drawn  off  one  of 
her  long  white  gloves,  —  those  stubby  red 
fingers,  sparkling  to  the  knuckles  with  dia- 
monds. 

She  abruptly  introduced  her  errand. 

"I  have  come  to  talk  about  your  bird.  I 
took  a  fancy  to  him  last  night,  and  I  want  to 
know  what  you'll  sell  him  for." 

"  Oh ! "  It  was  a  frightened,  pitiful  little  cry, 
and,  all  in  an  instant,  Doodles's  face  matched 

164 


CARUSO  SINGS  IN  PUBLIC 

it.  "I  —  don't  want  to  sell  him  —  I  would  n't 
sell  him  for  anything!" 

The  woman  laughed,  a  cold,  hateful  laugh 
that  flashed  fear  through  the  boy's  heart. 

"I  guess  you  will,"  —  she  winked  coaxingly, 
—  "  when  you  know  what  I  '11  pay  for  him.  I  '11 
give  you  twenty  dollars!  Just  think,  tw-en-ty 
bright  silver  dollars!" 

She  smiled  quite  as  if  the  matter  were  set- 
tled, but  there  was  no  response  on  the  scared 
white  face  opposite.  Doodles  looked  straight 
past  her  to  the  cluster  o|  faded  red  roses  on  the 
wall  paper  back  of  her  chair. 

" Tw-en-ty  beautiful  bright  silver  dollars!" 
she  reiterated  in  a  wheedling  tone. 

"I  don't  want  to  sell  him!"  Doodles  in- 
sisted firmly,  his  eyes  still  on  the  roses. 

"Well,  now,"  she  resumed,  "I  know  you're 
a  sensible  little  boy,  and  you  listen  while  I 
tell  you  how  it  looks  to  me.  I  understand  that 
your  mother  is  in  rather  straitened  circum- 
stances, being  just  out  of  the  hospital,  and 
not  very  well,  and  all.  So,  you  see,  twenty 
dollars  would  help  her  wonderfully.  Of  course, 
you  love  her  dearly,  better  than  anything  else 
in  the  whole  world,  don't  you?" 
165 


DOODLES 

Doodles  bowed  his  head  miserably. 

"I  knew  you  did.  And  if  you  could  give  her 
a  lift  with  twenty  dollars  —  now,  when  she 
needs  it  most,  how  beautiful  it  would  be!  You 
know  you  are  not  able  to  work  as  your  brother 
does;  but  you  can  do  this,  and  then  your  dear 
mother  will  stop  worrying  and  grow  strong 
and  well  again.  I  am  sure  you  are  not  a  selfish 
boy,  to  want  to  keep  all  the  good  things  to 
yourself." 

She  paused,  noting  with  almost  a  start  the 
effect  of  her  cruel  words. 

The  drawn  little  face  had  grown  whiter  and 
stiller  with  every  fling,  until  she  feared  he 
was  going  to  faint.  But  as  he  sat  rigidly  in 
his  chair  she  went  on. 

"You'll  let  me  have  the  bird,  won't  you?" 
she  coaxed.  "And  those  twenty  silver  dollars 
will  make  your  mother  so  happy!  I  can  imag- 
ine how  she  will  kiss  you  and  call  you  her  darl- 
ing, blessed  little  boy!" 

Suddenly  Doodles  fixed  his  big  brown  eyes 
on  the  woman's  own,  and  involuntarily  she 
recoiled.  Their  misery  and  reproach  stabbed 
her  soul.  She  dropped  her  glove,  and  stooped 
to  pick  it  up,  fumbling  with  its  buttons.  When 

166 


CARUSO  SINGS  IN  PUBLIC 

she  looked  again,  Doodles  had  turned  away, 
and  her  composure  came  back. 

"You  want  those  bright  silver  dollars,  I 
know,  so  I'll  count  them  over  for  you." 

She  opened  her  bag,  and  tore  apart  a 
paper  roll.  Out  poured  the  coins  in  a  shin- 
ing heap. 

"See!"  she  cried.  "Aren't  they  pretty? 
And  they're  all  yours!"  She  began  counting, 
—  "One,  two,  three,  four,  five,"  —  they 
dropped  one  by  one  into  the  boy's  passive 
hand. 

"  I  don't  want  them ! "  he  choked,  and  threw 
them  passionately  back  into  her  lap.  Then, 
with  an  overpowering  sob,  he  turned  from  her 
and  hid  his  face  in  his  pillows. 

"Why,  now,  you  mustn't  do  that!"  she 
exclaimed.  "I  thought  you  wanted  to  help 
your  mother  and  keep  her  well,  so  she  would 
n't  have  to  go  back  to  the  hospital  — " 

He  looked  up  in  terror. 

"Will  she  have  to  go  again,  if — " 

"Why,  of  course,"  she  broke  in  glibly,  "if 
she  worries  and  don't  get  strong,  her  trouble 
may  come  on — " 

"P'raps  I'll  —  let  you  have  him  to-mor- 

167 


DOODLES 

row,"  he  said  hurriedly.  "Blue  will  know 
what  is  best." 

"Oh,  I  wouldn't  say  anything  to  your 
brother  about  it!"  she  hastily  advised.  "He 
might  say  you'd  better  keep  the  bird,  without 
realizing  how  much  good  the  money  would  do 
your  mother;  because  he  would  wish  to  please 
you  on  account  of  your  — your  lameness,  you 
know.  Oh,  if  you  really  want  to  help  your 
mother,  as  I  'm  sure  you  do,  you  '11  let  it  come 
as  a  surprise  to  her  and  Blue  —  that  will  be 
the  very  best  way." 

She  glanced  at  the  clock.  It  was  almost 
noon.  She  had  no  wish  to  meet  that  shrewd- 
eyed  brother  of  Doodles,  in  fact  she  was 
frantically  anxious  to  avoid  him,  and  she 
quickly  pulled  on  her  glove. 

"You'd  better  let  me  take  the  bird  along," 
she  smiled,  "and  then  you  can  give  the  money 
to  your  mother  when  she  comes  home  to  din- 
ner. Won't  that  be  nice?"  She  arose,  and 
poured  the  coins  on  the  table. 

"No!  Oh,  no!"  cried  Doodles  wretchedly. 
"I  can't  —  now!  I  want  to  think!  You  wait 
—  wait  till  to-morrow!  Then  —  maybe — " 
he  began  to  sob  again. 

168 


CARUSO  SINGS  IN  PUBLIC 

The  town  clocks  started  to  strike.  Blue 
might  be  in  at  any  minute! 

"Well,  well!"  she  said  soothingly,  "stop 
crying,  and  I'll  come  again  to-morrow.  I 
must  be  going  now.  Remember  not  to  say 
anything  about  this,  if  you  really  wish  to  help 
your  mother!  I  know  you'll  want  those 
twenty  dollars  to  give  her  to-morrow!  My, 
how  happy  they'll  make  her!  Good-bye, 
darling ! "  She  threw  him  a  kiss  from  the  door- 
way, which  he  did  not  see.  His  eyes  were  too 
full  of  tears. 

At  dinner  he  was  unusually  quiet,  and  he 
ate  but  little. 

"You'd  better  begin  on  that  tonic  again," 
his  mother  decided,  and  after  the  meal  she 
fetched  a  bottle  from  the  cupboard  and  pre- 
pared him  a  dose.  Poor  Doodles!  What  tonic 
could  reach  this  new  and  startling  trouble! 
But  he  swallowed  it  meekly,  and  did  not 
know  whether  it  were  bitter  or  sweet. 

Next  morning  he  was  pale  and  haggard,  and 
confessed,  on  being  questioned,  that  he  had 
lain  awake  a  long  time  in  the  night. 

Mrs.  Stickney  shook  her  head  gravely,  and 
reproached  herself  again  for  having  allowed 

169 


DOODLES 

him  to  go  to  the  settlement  concert.  "I  ought 
to  have  known  better ! "  she  said  over  and  over. 

After  she  had  gone  to  the  shop,  and  while 
Blue  was  washing  the  breakfast  dishes, 
Caruso  began  to  sing.  The  accompanying 
rattle  of  the  knives  and  plates  seemed  to  spur 
him  on,  for  he  put  in  all  his  usual  notes  and 
many  others,  and  sang  "Annie  Laurie"  twice 
through  without  stopping. 

"Don't  he  go  it,  this  morning!"  exclaimed 
Blue,  as  the  bird  stopped  suddenly,  and 
hopped  down  to  his  water  cup,  to  refresh  his 
throat. 

There  was  no  response  from  Doodles,  and 
the  elder  boy  turned  to  see  his  brother  with 
head  towards  the  window. 

"That  was  a  dandy  performance,  wasn't 
it,  kiddie?"  Blue  persisted. 

No  answer. 

"What's  the  matter,  old  man?  Feel 
worse?" 

A  soft,  suspicious-sounding  "No"  sent 
Blue  over  to  the  window,  hands  dripping. 

With  a  little  protesting  gesture  Doodles 
turned  to  the  doubtful  comfort  of  his  pillows, 
and  began  to  sob. 

170 


CARUSO  SINGS  IN  PUBLIC 

"Why,  kiddie!"  Blue  drew  him  into  his 
arms.  "Is  the  pain  so  bad?" 

The  fair  head  shook  decidedly. 

"What  in  the  world  is  it  then?" 

The  sobbing  increased. 

"If  you  won't  tell  me,  how  can  I  do  any- 
thing for  you?"  Blue  gave  a  soft  laugh. 
"Shall  I  get  some  medicine?" 

"N— no." 

Caruso  started  to  sing  again,  and  Doodles 
pressed  his  head  close  against  his  brother,  as  if 
striving  to  shut  out  the  sounds. 

"Does  his  singing  hurt  you? "  Blue  asked  in 
some  surprise. 

"N— no  —  yes  —  o— h!" 

"Here,  then,  shut  up,  you!"  commanded 
Blue,  flinging  a  hand  in  the  direction  of  the 
cage. 

There  was  instant  silence. 

"Oh,  don't  stop  him!  Let  him  sing!  Dear, 
dear  birdie!" 

"Why,  I  thought  the  noise  made  you  feel 
bad!"  ' 

"No,  — oh,  no!" 

"Well,  what  does  ail  you?"  cried  Blue, 
almost  with  impatience.  Then  he  patted  the 
171 


DOODLES 

small  shoulder  tenderly.  "  Can't  you  tell 
brother?" 

Doodles  still  shook  his  head,  but  he  reached 
for  Blue's  hand,  and  stroked  it. 

"Whew!  'most  school  time!  I  must  finish 
those  dishes  in  a  jiffy!" 

Left  to  himself,  Doodles  lay  limply  against 
the  cushions,  now  and  then  giving  way  to  a 
long,  heavy  sigh. 

"Wish  you'd  tell  me  before  I  go,"  urged 
Blue,  halti  ig  beside  the  little  brother's  chair, 
cap  in  hand.  "I've  only  a  minute  —  speak 
quick!"  he  prodded  playfully. 

"Oh,  don't  go!  don't!  don't!"  pleaded 
Doodles  with  sudden  passion,  holding  to 
Blue's  coat  with  gripping  fingers. 

The  boy  tossed  his  cap  on  the  table. 

"  'Course  I '11  stay,  if  you  want  me  to;  but  if 
I  do,  you've  got  to  tell  me  what  ails  you!  And 
you  might's  well  soon  as  late." 

"I  — can't!" 

"Yes,  you  can!  Why  not?" 

"She  said—" 

"Who  said?" 

"The  woman  —  she  — " 

"What  woman?" 

172 


CARUSO   SINGS   IN   PUBLIC 

"I  do'  know  —  oh,  she  said  I  must  n't  tell 
you!" 

"Well,  you  must!  Where  was  she?" 

"Here." 

"When?" 

"Yesterday  forenoon." 

" What 'd  she  come  for?" 

"She  wants  —  Caruso!" 

"Does  she!  Well,  she  can't  have  him!  You 
do'  know  who  't  was?" 

"No.   She  was  at  the  concert." 

"Oh!  Then't  wasn't  Mis'  Sweeney!" 

"Why,  you  saw  her!  That  fat  one  with 
diamonds  all  over  her  fingers." 

' '  Aw ! ' '  Blue's  expression  told  the  rest.  ' '  So 
she  come  sneakin'  round  to  try  to  get  that 
bird!" 

"She  said 't  would  help  mother." 

"Help  mother?"  Blue  was  mystified. 

' '  The  money, ' '  Doodles  explained.  "  She  '11 
give  twenty  dollars  for  him!" 

"Twenty  dollars!"  scorned  Blue.  "Not 
much!  Why,  Sandy  Gillespie  said  he  was 
worth  two  hundred!" 

Doodles  sat  up  straight,  his  eyes  big  with 
wonder. 

173 


DOODLES 

"Two  hundred!  You  never  told  that 
before!" 

Blue  laughed.  "Didn't  mean  to  now.  I 
thought  it  was  safer  not  to." 

"Two  hundred  dollars!"  repeated  Doodles 
under  his  breath.  He  looked  across  at  the 
mocking  bird  with  incredulous  eyes. 

"Wha'  'd  you  say  to  her?"  Blue  queried. 

Doodles  repeated  as  much  of  the  talk  as  he 
could  recollect. 

"And  she's  comin'  again  this  morning?" 

"I  s'pose  so  —  oh,  don't  leave  me  alone, 
don't!" 

"'Course  I  won't,  kiddie!  Wha'  <T  ye  think 
I'm  made  of?  I'll  like  the  fun  o'  tendin'  to 
her!  I  ain't  afraid!" 

Doodles  drew  a  sigh  of  relief.  Then  his  eyes 
grew  anxious. 

"You  don't  think  we  ought  to  sell  him  —  to 
help  mother?" 

"Naw!  We're  gett'n'  along  all  right." 

Doodles  settled  back  against  his  cushions 
and  Blue's  assertion.  How  comforting  it  was 
to  have  a  brother  equal  to  emergencies! 

Ten  o'clock  came  before  the  be-plumed 
caller  appeared.  According  to  agreement, 
174 


CARUSO   SINGS   IN   PUBLIC 

Blue  was  not  in  sight  until  she  was  seated. 
Then  he  sauntered  in  from  the  bedroom. 
That  the  woman  was  greatly  disconcerted 
by  his  sudden  entrance  was  plain,  and  Blue 
inwardly  chuckled. 

"I  supposed  you  were  in  school,"  she  began 
indiscreetly. 

"No,  I  thought  I'd  stay  out  and  see  you," 
grinned  Blue. 

' '  Ah?  Then  your  brother  has  spoken  of  me? ' ' 

"Oh,  yes!  He  and  I  are  great  chums." 

"That's  very  nice  —  just  as  all  brothers 
should  be,"  she  purred  sweetly.  "And  then,  of 
course,  you  agree  with  him  about  selling  me 
the  mocking  bird,"  she  added  tentatively, 
with  a  fluttering  smile. 

"Sure!"  beamed  Blue. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad!  I  do  like  to  see  boys 
ready  to  help  their  mother,  and  those  twenty 
silver  dollars  will  do  her  no  end  of  good." 

"Ye  —  es,"  drawled  the  boy,  "I  s'pose  she 
or  anybody 'd  like  twenty  dollars  well  enough; 
but  I  guess  they'd  like  two  hundred  better, 
would  n't  they?"  His  eyes  sparkled. 

"Two  —  hundred?"  she  repeated,  frown- 
ing. "What  do  you  mean?" 

175 


DOODLES 

"I  mean,"  and  Blue's  eyes  met  her  own 
squarely,  "that  we  shan't  sell  Caruso  for  less 
than  two  hundred  dollars." 

The  woman  gathered  herself  together. 
"Absurd!"  she  cried.  "You'll  never  get  it, 
never!" 

"All  right!"  smiled  Blue.  "We're  satis- 
fied." 

"But  —  but  haven't  you  any  regard  for 
your  mother?"  she  exclaimed,  still  clinging  to 
her  original  tactics.  "Think  what  that  twenty 
dollars  would  buy!  And  she  slaving  herself 
for  you!  It's  an  extravagance  for  you  to  keep 
such  a  bird!" 

"That's  our  business!"  returned  the  boy 
quietly. 

"Well,"  she  flung  out  with  rising  anger,  "I 
hope  you're  saucy  enough!  I  might  have 
expected  it  from  anybody  that  lived  in  The 
Flatiron!"  She  rose  hurriedly.  "You'll  see 
the  day  that  you'll  regret  this!" 

A  retort  was  upon  Blue's  lips,  but  the  face 
of  his  brother,  white  and  troubled,  held  it 
back,  and  the  woman  swept  from  the  room  in 
silence. 


A   THUNDERBOLT 

IT  was  hot  in  The  Flatiron.  The  July  sun 
rose  early  and  blazed  over  the  tin  roof,  until 
by  nine  o'clock  the  rooms  underneath  began 
to  feel  like  ovens.  Doodles  had  never  drooped 
as  he  drooped  this  summer.  Yet  he  sang  and 
made  melody  on  his  violin  whenever  he  was 
able,  and  forgot  the  tenement  and  the  hard 
things  of  life. 

Across  the  sea  of  roofs,  from  the  kitchen 
window,  was  a  small  opening  through  which 
one  with  clear  eyes  might  discern  a  bit  of 
velvety  green  and  a  fleck  of  brilliant  color. 

" See!"  piped  Doodles  joyously.  " Seems 's 
if  ther'  was  more  red  than  ther'  was  yester- 
day. It's  lovely!"  he  breathed.  "It  looks 
like  —  heaven!" 

"Heaven!"  sniffed  Blue.  "I  should  think't 
'u'd  look  more  like  h —  the  other  place!" 

"Blue  Stickney!"  His  mother's  voice  was 
horrified. 

177 


DOODLES 

"Well,  I  should!"  the  boy  insisted  de- 
fiantly. "Him  sitt'n'  here  day  in  'n'  day  out, 
roastin',  and  never  goin'  any  nearer  the  park 
'n'  that !  It 's  he'  —  awful !  —  that 's  what  it  is 
—  I  don't  care  if  I  do  say  it!" 

The  door  slammed  its  appreciation  of  Blue's 
honesty,  and  Mrs.  Stickney  gazed  across  at 
Doodles  with  a  sigh. 

Plainly  the  small  boy  had  paid  no  attention 
to  his  brother's  words.  The  heavenly  morsel 
of  landscape  was  absorbing  all  his  thoughts. 

But  after  dinner,  when  the  city  flags  hung 
limp  on  then*  staffs,  and  the  sun  flamed  fiercely 
round  the  corner  of  the  kitchen  window,  even 
the  bit  of  beauty  in  the  distant  park  looked 
glaringly  hot.  Doodles  dropped  back  on  his 
pillows,  and  shut  his  eyes. 

"Whew,  if  this  isn't  a  roaster!"  fumed 
Blue,  jerking  off  his  blouse.  "That  thing 
don't  go  on  again  till  it's  cooler!" 

"You'll  have  to  wear  it  when  you  deliver 
your  papers,"  said  Doodles  mildly,  opening 
his  eyes. 

"I  won't,"  declared  Blue  savagely.  "I'm 
not  goin'  to  swelter  for  fashion!  Mother's 
got  the  best  of  it  this  afternoon  in  the  shop. 
178 


A  THUNDERBOLT 

They  '11  git  a  breeze  there  if  ther'  is  any.  Don't 
you  want  to  lie  down  and  take  a  nap?" 

"Is  it  cooler  in  the  bedroom?"  queried 
Doodles.  "If  'tis,  I '11  go." 

Blue  skipped  away  to  investigate. 

" Seems 's  if  'twas  —  some,"  he  reported. 

But  Doodles,  breathing  the  stuffy  air  of  the 
little  room,  wished  he  was  back  at  his  window. 

"Now  p'raps  you  can  go  to  sleep,"  Blue 
told  him. 

"Maybe,"  he  replied  patiently. 

Blue  sat  down  in  the  rocker,  and  fanned 
himself  furiously  with  a  newspaper.  Then, 
tossing  it  to  the  floor,  he  went  over  to  the 
window.  The  sun  was  like  a  furnace.  "Good- 
ness!" he  ejaculated,  and  roved  into  the  hall. 
Reminders  of  various  dinners  stole  up  the 
stairs.  Still  it  seemed  a  little  less  stifling,  and 
he  dropped  to  the  upper  step.  He  sat  there, 
allowing  his  thoughts  wide  range  till  they  came 
back  to  Doodles.  He  jumped  up,  and  tiptoed 
into  the  bedroom. 

His  brother  spoke  weakly.  "P'raps  I'd 
better  go  out  to  the  window  —  I  can't  breathe 
good  in  here." 

"Should  n't  think  you  could!"   Blue  lifted 

179 


DOODLES 

him  gently.  '"T  is  n 't  so  bad  in  the  hall,"  he 
said.  "Let's  try  that  —  I've  been  sitting 
there." 

Putting  Doodles  on  the  floor,  he  ran  back 
for  some  cushions  and  arranged  them  as  a 
sort  of  couch,  on  which  he  made  the  small  boy 
as  comfortable  as  he  could. 

"Wish  you'd  tell  me  about  the  picnic," 
said  Doodles  wearily.  "Will  it  be  out  in  that 
beautiful  country  where  Mr.  Gaylord  took 
me?" 

"I  guess  it's  in  another  direction  —  High- 
land Grove.  I  don't  just  know.  But  they 
say  it's  fine  —  the  fellers  that  have  been." 

"  Seems 's  if  I  could  n't  wait !  Is  it  Wednes- 
day?" 

"Yes,  only  a  week  from  to-morrow." 

"You're  sure  you  can  get  the  tickets?" 
The  voice  was  anxious. 

"Sure,  kiddie!  Don't  you  be  worryin'  'bout 
that!" 

"No,  but  once  in  a  while  I  think,  what  if 
I  could  n't!  When '11  you  get  them?" 

"I  do'  know  —  next  week  prob'ly." 

"And  you  think  there'll  be  ice  cream?" 
The  question  quivered  with  eagerness. 

180 


A  THUNDERBOLT 

"'Course!  'T  would  n't  be  a  picnic  with- 
out! Oh,  the  Salvation  Army  folks  do  things 
up  fine!" 

"How  does  ice  cream  taste?  Please  tell 
me  again." 

"  Oh,  it 's  cold — cold  as  Blixen !  'N'  it  tastes 
like  —  let  me  see  —  I  guess  like  candy  'n' 
cake  all  in  one.  It's  harder  'n'  'most  anything, 
an'  it  squ'shes  all  up  and  melts  to  nothin' 
right  in  your  mouth." 

"Does  it  taste  like  Granny's  ginger- 
bread?" 

Blue's  head  shook  decidedly. 

"No  —  why,  you  remember  that  big  round 
cake  Mis'  Jimmy  George  gave  you  —  all  soft 
inside?" 

"Yes." 

"It's  more  like  that  —  only  better  — " 

"Better?   I  don't  see  how  it  could  be!" 

"Oh,  you  just  wait!  Ice  cream  's  a  million 
times  better  'nthat!  It's  so  cold  'n'  sweet,  it 
feels  jolly  good  goin'  down  —  wish  I  had  some 
right  here  this  minute  —  um-m-m!" 

"It  must  be  beautiful!"  sighed  Doodles. 

"Shame  you've  never  had  any!" 

"It's   nice   I'll   have   some   next   week," 

181 


DOODLES 

Doodles  smiled.  But  it  was  a  tired  little  smile. 
Next  week  seemed  very  far  away. 

"Wh-ew!"  Blue  blew  out  the  word  in  a 
long  breath.  "  It's  hotter  'n  Hannah!  I  don't 
b'lieve  I  was  ever  so  hot  in  my  life!  Hope 
it'll  cool  off  before  five." 

"Do  you  s'pose  it's  any  better  by  the  win- 
dow?" sighed  Doodles. 

"  Worse ! "  scowled  Blue.  The  sun's  scorch- 
ing, an'  ther'  is  n't  a  speck  of  breeze.  Feel 
bad,  old  feller?" 

Doodles' s  white  little  face  seemed  to  grow 
whiter  all  at  once. 

"I  can't  —  breathe  good,"  was  the  falter- 
ing answer.' 

"It's  the  heat  —  that's  all,  kiddie.  Cheer 
up!  It'll  be  night  before  long,  and  then,  may- 
be, we'll  have  a  breeze." 

"Do  you  mind  —  getting  me  a  drink?" 
came  weakly. 

"Sure  I  will!"  Blue  ran  to  the  hall  sink 
with  a  glass,  and  fetched  it  back  brimming. 

Doodles  took  a  few  swallows,  and  Blue 
finished  it. 

"Ugh!"  ejaculated  the  elder  boy,  "that's 
worse 'n  the  weather!" 

182 


A  THUNDERBOLT 

Setting  the  glass  in  a  safe  corner,  he  dropped 
beside  his  brother,  but  as  he  glanced  down, 
terror  clutched  him.  He  had  never  seen 
Doodles  look  like  that.  He  took  one  of  the 
small  hands  in  his  own.  It  was  damp  and 
cold!  He  dashed  into  the  kitchen  for  a  fan. 
None  was  in  sight,  and  he  came  back  with  a 
newspaper,  which  he  began  to  wave  franti- 
cally over  Doodles. 

"No  —  please  don't!"  begged  the  child. 
"It  tires  me!" 

Blue's  hand  dropped.  "Thought  'twould 
make  you  cooler,"  he  said  in  dismay. 

"B'ys!" 

It  was  Granny's  voice,  and  Blue  turned  to 
see  the  quaint  little  figure  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs. 

"Coom  down,  th'  both  o'  ye!  It's  shure 
too  br'ilin'  f'r  ye  up  undher  th'  roof." 

"It  is!"  Blue  ejaculated.  "We  '11  be  down 
in  a  jiffy  —  and  thank  you!" 

He  grasped  Doodles  with,  "Put  your  arms 
round  my  neck,  kiddie!" 

There  was  a  weak  movement  as  if  to  obey; 
then  the  little  figure  was  a  limp  burden. 

Overwhelmed  with  dread,  Blue  staggered 

183 


DOODLES 

into  Granny's  room  with  his  unconscious 
load. 

"He's  dead!  he's  dead!"  he  choked. 

Scores  of  emergencies  had  made  Granny 
mistress  of  many,  and  in  a  moment  Blue  had 
the  inexpressible  joy  of  seeing  Doodles  open 
his  eyes  with  a  fluttering  little  smile. 

"Th'  h'at  made  ye  a  bit  faint,  darlin'," 
Granny  explained.  "Ye '11  be  betther  down 
here.  Lie  sthill  an'  go  to  shlape,  if  ye  like." 

He  shut  his  eyes,  but  soon  opened  them 
again. 

"It's  beginning  to  be  cooler,"  he  said  cheer- 
fully. 

Granny  turned  from  the  window  where  she 
had  been  scanning  the  sky. 

"We'll  be  gitt'n'  a  shower  befure  long," 
she  exulted.  "Seems  like  I  never  did  see  such 
a  hot  day ! "  She  wiped  her  face  with  the  under 
side  of  her  apron. 

"My,  how  black  it  is  in  the  north!"  cried 
Blue. 

He  leaned  his  arms  on  the  window-sill,  and 
looked  at  the  gathering  clouds.  They  had  al- 
ready hidden  the  sun,  and  hung,  dark  and 
jagged,  over  the  city.  The  air  was  gloomy.  In 
184 


A  THUNDERBOLT 

the  street  below  people  hurried  along,  every 
now  and  then  glancing  upward  at  the  threat- 
ening sky.  Little  whiffs  of  wind  whirled  the 
dust  in  the  roadway,  and  thunder  growled  in 
the  distance. 

"Bet  some  folks  '11  git  wet!"  prophesied 
the  boy,  as  he  turned  back  to  the  room.  He 
was  surprised  at  the  dim  light.  He  could 
scarcely  see  Doodles,  over  on  the  couch. 
Doodles  was  timid  in  a  thunder  storm,  and 
Blue  crossed  the  floor  to  his  side. 

"  Prob'ly  the  heft  of  it  '11  go  round,  as  usual," 
he  said;  "but  't  will  be  cooler.  We  shall  like 
that,  old  feller,  shan't  we?" 

Doodles  smiled  weakly.  "  Let 's  talk  about 
the  picnic,"  he  proposed,  putting  his  hand 
in  his  brother's. 

But  a  mighty  gust  of  wind  and  a  sudden 
dash  of  big  drops  sent  Blue  upstairs  to  shut 
the  windows,  while  Granny  bustled  about, 
closing  blinds  and  putting  things  out  of  the 
possible  way  of  rain.  Before  he  returned,  the 
street  was  a  river,  and  crash  after  crash  was 
sounding  overhead. 

Granny,  to  whom  fear  was  unknown, 
watched  the  storm  from  the  window,  and  Blue 
185 


DOODLES 

would  have  liked  to  join  her;  but  the  little 
clinging  hand  of  Doodles  was  enough  to  hold 
him  to  the  couch. 

"I'm  glad  this  didn't  come  on  the  picnic 
day,"  piped  the  small  boy  above  the  continu- 
ous roar. 

"Lucky — "  began  Blue,  but  never  fin- 
ished. 

A  blinding  blaze  and  a  simultaneous  crash, 
as  if  the  house  were  being  split  in  two,  brought 
hun  to  his  feet. 

Granny,  too,  started  up. 

"That  was  pretty  near!"  breathed  Blue  hi 
a  voice  of  awe. 

"I  hope  it  didn't  hur-rt  anny  wan,"  re- 
sponded Granny  sympathetically. 

Doodles  lay  very  still,  gripping  his  broth- 
er's hand. 

"Scared,  old  feller?"  queried  Blue,  drop- 
ping back  into  his  chair. 

"A  — little,"  confessed  Doodles.  "It's 
farther  off  now,  is  n't  it?" 

"Oh,  yes!  prob'ly  that  was  the  worst." 

The  storm  passed  as  quickly  as  it  had  come, 
and  presently  Blue  ran  upstairs  to  make  ready 
for  his  trip  down  street.  They  heard  him  re- 

186 


A  THUNDERBOLT 

turning  almost  at  once,  clattering  down  with 
such  speed  that  Granny  hurried  to  meet  him. 

' '  It  struck  our  kitchen ! "  he  burst  out.  ' '  The 
stove's  all  over  the  room!" 

"Ye  don't  mane  it!  Th'  blissid  saints  be 
praised  't  th'  botho'  ye  wasn't  there!"  And 
Granny  hobbled  upstairs  to  see  the  lightning's 
work. 

Plainly  the  bolt  had  entered  by  way  of  the 
chimney,  and,  after  demolishing  the  stove, 
and  scattering  and  overturning  various  ar- 
ticles, had  departed  through  the  floor  at  the 
southwest  corner  of  the  room.  Nothing  but 
the  stove  appeared  to  be  injured.  That  was 
unmendable. 

"I  must  go  and  tell  Doodles!"  cried  Blue, 
and  he  dashed  downstairs  to  find  his  brother 
in  a  panic  of  suspense,  having  heard  just 
enough  to  cause  him  to  imagine  things  worse 
than  they  really  were. 

"Caruso?"  was  his  first  questioning  word, 
as  he  caught  sight  of  Blue. 

"Oh,  he's  all  right!  Eatin'  as  cool  as  any- 
thing!" 

"An'  my  violin?" 

"Not  a  scratch  on  it!"  Blue  reassured  him, 

187 


DOODLES 

and  hastened  to  picture  the  disorder  of  the 
kitchen. 

"I'm  never  going  to  be  afraid  again!"  de- 
cided Doodles,  when  the  story  was  told.  "God 
did  n't  let  the  lightning  hurt  us  or  Caruso  or 
the  violin,  and  now  I  know  He  won't  ever. 
Is  n't  it  nice!" 

Blue  laughed  softly.  "Guess  you  won't 
think  it's  so  nice  not  to  have  a  stove  when 
you  want  your  breakfast!" 

"Oh,  Granny '11  let  us  use  hers!"  was  the 
contented  reply. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
"THE  TRUE-BLUEST  BOY" 

RUMORS  of  the  thunderbolt  in  The  Flat- 
iron  met  Mrs.  Stickney  on  her  way  home,  and 
her  thankfulness  for  the  safety  of  her  boys 
routed  all  worry  over  the  loss  of  the  stove.  But 
after  a  day  or  two  the  need  of  a  fire  began  to 
press  heavily.  Granny's  little  stove  was  at 
her  constant  disposal,  but  the  stairs  between 
made  its  use  inconvenient.  To  buy  one  now, 
with  wages  low  and  work  scarcely  more  than 
two  thirds  of  the  time,  was  not  to  be  thought 
of.  The  new  problem  promised  to  be  a 
mighty  one. 

"Did  Mr.  Gillespie  tell  you  that  mocking 
birds  like  Caruso  actually  sell  for  two  hundred 
dollars?"  the  mother  inquired  of  Blue,  after 
the  small  boy  was  asleep. 

"That's  what  he  said." 

"It  doesn't  seem  possible,  and  I  didn't 
know  but  Doodles  had  made  a  mistake.  Two 
hundred  dollars  is  a  great  deal  of  money  to 

189 


DOODLES 

keep  in  a  bird,"  she  went  on.  "We  can't 
afford  it  —  we  mustn't!  Think  what  that 
would  buy !  Of  course,  it  would  grieve  Doodles 
to  sell  him,  but  — " 

"He  ain't  going  to  be  sold!"  interrupted 
Blue  stoutly,  closing  his  book  and  giving  it  a 
savage  little  push  across  the  table. 

"I  know,  dear!  It  will  be  hard.  But  I'm 
sure  Doodles  will  be  reasonable  about  it.  We 
need  the  money  now  more  than  we  need  a 
bird." 

"He  shan't  be  sold ! "  cried  the  boy  defiantly. 
"Why,  it  would  kill  Doodles!  He  loves  him 
as  well  as  —  you  do  me!" 

"No,  no,  dear!  You—" 

"He  does!  You  did  n't  see  him  when  that 
woman  came — I  did!  I  know!  I'll  —  I'll  sell 
myself  first!  Caruso  shan't  go,  anyway!"  He 
jumped  up,  fidgeted  about  for  a  while,  and 
then  disappeared  in  the  darkness  of  the  un- 
lighted  bedroom. 

The  mother  sighed  heavily.  They  were 
running  behind,  and  had  been  for  several 
weeks.  Work  might  not  pick  up  before  Octo- 
ber —  how  were  they  to  live?  She  sat  think- 
ing, thinking,  until  the  clock  struck  twelve. 

190 


"THE  TRUE-BLUEST  BOY" 

The  possible  selling  of  Caruso  was  almost 
lost  sight  of  in  the  excitement  of  the  coming 
picnic.  There  were  trousers  and  blouses  and 
neckties  for  Mrs.  Stickney  to  wash  and  iron. 
Since  papers  must  be  delivered  on  time,  Blue 
must  find  a  boy  that  was  not  going  to  the  pic- 
nic. This  was  a  long  task,  for  nearly  every- 
one of  Blue's  acquaintance  had  given  his  name 
to  the  Salvation  Army  Sergeant,  and  the  few 
not  on  the  list  had  early  been  engaged  as  sub- 
stitutes. But  a  free  lad  was  finally  discovered, 
and  Blue,  who  had  been  tormented  by  spasms 
of  fear  lest  he  might  have  to  remain  to  serve 
his  customers  himself,  ran  home  on  nimble 
feet  to  tell  the  good  news.  He  carried  joy,  also, 
in  the  shape  of  two  magic  slips  of  pink  card- 
board, —  passports  to  the  wonderful  auto- 
mobile rides,  eight  hours  in  the  enchanting 
country,  and  a  dinner  of  dainties  topped  with 
ice  cream. 

Doodles  had  enough  to  think  of  that  after- 
noon, for  the  little  pink  card  seemed  to  sug- 
gest all  kinds  of  rosy  delights.  He  was  so 
wrapped  in  his  own  happy  anticipations  that 
at  tea  time  he  did  not  notice  the  shadow 
which  had  fallen  on  his  brother. 
191 


DOODLES 

Blue's  bliss,  with  a  careless  twirl  of  his  hand, 
had  suddenly  changed  to  dismay  and  sorrow. 
Standing  on  the  curb,  he  had  been  idly  finger- 
ing his  new  ticket,  when  it  had  slipped  from  his 
loose  grasp.  A  strong  north  wind  was  blow- 
ing, and  swept  down  the  street  as  the  bit  of 
cardboard  left  his  hand.  Away  it  flew,  with 
Blue  in  pursuit;  but  an  inquisitive  terrier, 
spying  the  curious  slip  of  pink,  had  started 
too.  The  terrier  grabbed  it  first,  speeding  off 
with  it  in  his  mouth,  and  although  Blue 
chased  the  dog  out  of  sight  and  himself  out 
of  breath,  he  was  finally  forced  to  turn  back 
without  another  glimpse  of  his  precious  ticket. 

What  should  be  done?  Blue  said  nothing 
to  anybody,  but  he  decided  the  matter  before 
going  to  bed.  One  thing,  Doodles  must  not 
know.  He  would  directly  insist  on  his  broth- 
er's using  the  remaining  ticket.  Blue  well 
knew  that.  So  he  planned  to  have  Joseph 
Sitnitsky  care  for  Doodles,  and  he  himself 
would  walk  to  the  grove. 

There  was  no  use  in  asking  to  have  his  loss 
made  good.  Had  not  Sergeant  Connor  ex- 
pressly warned  the  children  not  to  lose  their 
tickets,  saying  that  they  could  not  be  replaced! 
192 


"THE  TRUE-BLUEST  BOY" 

No,  it  was  walk  or  stay  at  home.  Blue  had  no 
idea  of  the  distance  to  Highland  Grove;  but 
he  felt  equal  to  any  number  of  miles.  So  with- 
out taking  Joseph  wholly  into  his  confidence 
he  arranged  for  him  to  sit  beside  Doodles  in 
the  car,  leaving  him  to  conjecture  as  he  might 
concerning  the  reason.  Joseph  never  asked 
questions. 

With  all  his  planning,  however,  Blue  did  not 
feel  sure  of  the  success  of  the  scheme  until  he 
had  seen  his  brother  safe  and  happy  in  the 
automobile,  waving  a  merry  good-bye  to  him. 
He  had  been  afraid  there  might  be  inquiries 
that  he  could  not  easily  answer;  but  Doodles, 
on  this  morning  of  unusual  happenings,  had 
taken  everything  without  remark,  and  when 
Blue  had  observed,  in  as  careless  a  tone  as  he 
could  command,  that  he  was  not  going  to  ride 
in  the  car  with  him,  had  apparently  given  the 
matter  no  further  thought. 

It  was  easy  to  hide  himself  hi  the  big  crowd, 
and  he  pressed  on  ahead,  albeit  with  a  little 
sigh  for  the  pleasure  he  had  missed.  He  did 
not  hasten;  he  fell  into  his  usual  pace,  and 
kept  it.  Those  sixty  automobiles,  he  argued, 
would  not  get  started  in  a  hurry,  and  he  should 

193 


DOODLES 

be  well  towards  the  end  of  his  tramp  before 
they  came  up.  Billy  Frick  had  told  him  it 
was  not  very  far. 

Business  blocks  grew  scattering  and  were 
interspersed  with  dwellings.  Shops  were 
smaller  and  less  frequent.  Bungalows  ap- 
peared, with  tiny  gardens  attached.  The  city 
was  falling  behind.  Along  the  way  were  groups 
of  women  and  children,  waiting  to  see  the  pic- 
nickers pass.  Blue  heard  them  talking  about  it 
as  he  went  by.  Presently  he  caught  the  sound 
of  shouts. 

"  They  're  coming!"  cried  a  girl. 

He  turned  in  dismay.  A  big  car,  gay  with 
flags,  was  whizzing  round  the  broad  curve  he 
had  just  passed,  and  a  long  line  followed. 
Quickly  he  screened  himself  with  a  fat  woman, 
to  avoid  the  possible  eyes  of  Doodles.  Then  he 
peeped  out  —  there  was  Joseph !  He  dodged 
behind  the  broad  back,  and  so  missed  the  sight 
of  his  brother.  In  a  moment  they  were  gone. 

As  the  merry  train  vanished,  as  the  last 
flag  fluttered  its  farewell  through  the  cloud 
of  dust,  he  felt  all  at  once  abandoned  and  for- 
lorn. He  started  to  run,  but  soon  realized  that 
he  could  never  overtake  those  swift  cars,  and 
194 


"THE  TRUE-BLUEST  BOY" 

he  dropped  back  into  his  former  pace.  After 
all,  there  was  nothing  to  worry  about;  he  had 
simply  to  follow. 

A  little  further  on  occasional  green  fields 
gave  courage  to  the  tired  boy,  and  after  a 
while  he  reached  the  open  country,  finally 
coming  to  a  fork  in  the  road.  He  halted  in 
perplexity,  wishing  that  he  had  not  contented 
himself  with  such  indefinite  directions.  Billy 
had  said,  "You  go  right  straight  along,  'ith- 
out  turnin'  a  single  once,"  and  Blue  had 
rested  in  that.  Not  a  person  was  in  sight,  and 
the  only  house  was  a  considerable  distance 
back.  At  last,  he  decided  on  the  way  that 
seemed  nearest  in  line  with  the  one  he  had 
come,  and  so  trudged  on. 

The  sun  was  almost  overhead.  Could  he 
have  been  walking  for  three  hours?  The  day 
was  sultry,  and  Blue  looked  down  with  dis- 
may at  the  blouse  on  which  his  mother  had 
expended  so  much  care  —  it  was  limp  with  per- 
spiration! 

"Well,  I  can't  help  it!"  he  muttered. 
"Guess  the  other  fellers  '11  sweat,  too!" 

If  only  he  knew  how  far  ahead  those 
"other  fellers"  were!  The  sound  of  wheels 
195 


DOODLES 

came  from  behind,  and  soon  a  milkman's 
team  drew  near.  Blue  voiced  the  one  question 
in  his  mind. 

"The  Salvation  Army's  picnic?  Oh,  you're 
off  the  track!  They're  over  in  Highland 
Grove.  Let 's  see  —  reckon  your  best  way  is 
to  cut  'cross  lots.  Jump  in,  and  I'll  set  you 
down  a  piece  farther  on." 

The  boy  was  grateful  for  the  little  rest.  His 
feet  ached  with  the  long  miles  he  had  come, 
and  it  was  a  relief  to  feel  that  he  was  going 
forward  without  their  help.  But  the  ride  was 
brief  as  pleasant,  and  shortly  he  was  on  the 
meadow  side  of  a  wire  fence,  with  the  instruc- 
tion to  "go  right  across  there,  and  you'll  find 
'em." 

Blue,  —  making  a  path  through  the  tall 
Timothy,  grasshoppers  flocking  ahead,  bees 
and  butterflies  winging  past,  birds  calling 
from  an  adjoining  wood,  —  had  suddenly 
entered  a  new  world.  A  swift  little  brook 
crossed  his  way,  and,  as  he  sprang  over,  a 
green  slope  under  a  big  oak  urged  him  to  a  seat. 
Forgetful  for  the  moment  of  his  destination 
and  the  brother  awaiting  him,  he  threw  him- 
self on  the  grass  with  a  tired  sigh.  The  buzz- 

196 


"THE  TRUE-BLUEST  BOY" 

ing  of  the  bees  on  the  hot,  drowsy  air  was  like 
a  lullaby.  He  closed  his  eyes.  Then,  with  a 
rush,  came  remembrance  —  he  jumped  to 
his  feet,  and  started  on. 

It  would  have  been  easy  to  stray  from  the 
right  direction,  and  some  good  angel  must 
have  guided  his  reckless  steps,  for  only  with 
the  crossing  of  a  few  fields  he  came  upon  a 
straggling  party  of  girls,  and  his  long  journey 
was  nearly  at  an  end. 

When  he  reached  the  grove  he  was  dis- 
tressed at  sight  of  Doodles  sobbing  in  Jo- 
seph's arms.  The  tears  stopped  flowing  the 
instant  Blue  appeared,  although  an  explana- 
tion had  to  be  given  before  the  small  boy 
would  be  satisfied. 

It  was  not  quite  finished  when  the  children 
were  bidden  to  file  up  to  the  distributors  and 
exchange  their  blue  buttons  for  luncheon. 
Then  Blue  suddenly  realized  the  dreadful  fact 
that  he  was  buttonless.  It  was  at  once 
Doodles's  turn  to  play  the  heroic  part,  and 
promptly  he  acted.  But  he  did  not  count  on 
his  brother's  resistance,  and  it  was  not  easy 
to  pin  a  button  on  the  blouse  of  a  boy  who 
fought  it  off  with  all  the  strength  he  dared 
197 


DOODLES 

use.  The  little  excitement  finally  brought 
Captain  Bligh  himself  to  the  spot,  and  as  the 
whole  story  was  poured  into  the  ears  of  the 
kindly  Captain  it  did  not  lose  any  of  its  in- 
terest through  Doodles's  eager  telling. 

Presently  the  two  boys  were  sitting  placidly 
side  by  side,  too  much  engaged  in  the  joys  of 
chicken  sandwiches,  cakes,  ice  cream,  and 
lemonade  to  utter  more  than  an  occasional 
expletive  of  rapture. 

The  last  dish  was  finally  empty,  and  Doodles 
looked  up  with  a  seraphic  smile. 

"When  I'm  a  man,"  he  said,  "I'm  going 
to  save  my  money  and  give  ice  cream  every 
day  to  all  the  folks  that  can't  have  any!" 

"Like  it?"  queried  Blue,  with  a  mischie- 
vous lift  of  his  eyebrows. 

"It's  the  best  thing  to  eat  in  the  whole 
world!  Why,"  he  went  on  solemnly,  "I 
would  n't  have  missed  mine  for — fifty  cents ! " 
The  afternoon's  delights  were  many  and 
marvelous.  Doodles  had  a  sail  in  the  enchant- 
ing swan  boat,  and  then,  to  his  utter  aston- 
ishment, Sergeant  Connor  put  him  into  a 
wonderful  wheel  chair,  and  he  was  rolled 
away  through  the  grove  to  a  place  that  was 

198 


"THE   TRUE-BLUEST  BOY" 

all  red  and  gold  with  wild  flowers.  He  came 
back  with  his  lap  full  of  the  beautiful  blos- 
soms, and  his  eyes  brimming  with  happiness. 

At  four  o'clock  the  procession  started  for 
home,  and,  as  the  crowning  joy  of  the  day; 
Blue  and  Doodles  rode  in  the  leading  car 
beside  Captain  Bligh  himself.  The  Captain 
led  Doodles  into  a  spirited  talk,  and  Blue 
gazed  at  his  brother  in  pride  and  admiration 
as  he  conversed  so  easily  and  well  with  the 
officer  of  whom  he  stood  a  bit  in  awe.  Sud- 
denly, to  his  discomfiture,  the  topic  was  him- 
self! 

"Your  brother  has  a  very  unusual  name," 
the  Captain  remarked,  "and  I  am  glad  to 
know  he  is  true-Blue." 

"Oh,"  cried  Doodles  earnestly,  "he's  the 
true-bluest  boy  you  ever  saw!" 

The  "true-bluest  boy"  tried  to  nudge  his 
small  brother  into  silence;  but  Doodles  was 
afloat  on  his  favorite  stream  of  talk,  and  he 
only  laughed  innocently  —  and  went  on. 

The  Captain  laughed,  too,  quite  as  if  he 

were  enjoying  Doodles  and  Doodles's  brother. 

But  the  chat  presently  became  less  personal, 

and  Blue  was  unconsciously  drawn  into  it, 

199 


DOODLES 

discovering  that  the  Captain,  after  all,  was 
not  a  man  to  be  feared. 

The  route,  although  far  longer  than  that 
of  the  morning,  came  at  last  to  its  end;  but 
Captain  Bligh  gave  the  boys  a  new  subject  to 
wonder  and  talk  about  when  he  told  them  that 
he  should  come  to  see  them  very  soon. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

JOSEPH    SITNITSKY   PROVES   HIS   VALOR 

"Do  you  think  God  would  have  any  objec- 
tions to  my  asking  Him  to  send  us  a  stove?" 

Blue  was  living  with  "Little  Lord  Fauntle- 
roy,"  and  at  the  moment  was  so  eager  to  know 
whether  the  young  Lord  lost  his  estate  and 
his  title  that  he  absently  queried,  "H — m?" 

It  was  only  after  the  question  had  been 
patiently  repeated  that  he  came  out  of  the 
story  long  enough  to  say,  rather  doubtfully, 
"N — no,  I  guess  not." 

"Because  we  need  one  so  bad,"  Doodles 
went  on,  "and  seeing  it  was  his  lightning  that 
spoiled  the  old  one,  you  know  —  of  course, 
it  was  all  right,"  he  hurried  to  add.  "Maybe," 
he  continued  thoughtfully,  "He  did  it  so  He 
could  have  the  chance  to  give  us  a  new  stove 
—  if  we  asked  for  it.  You  know,  He  says  He 
will  give  us  anything  that's  best  for  us,  and 
I  think  that  must  be  best  for  us,  don't  you?" 

Blue  nodded  smilingly,  but  returned  at  once 

201 


DOODLES 

to  his  book,  and  Doodles,  with  a  wee  breath  of 
disappointment,  gave  up  the  one-sided  talk. 
He  craved  a  stronger  assurance  from  his  bro- 
ther that  a  stove  was  a  proper  subject  for 
prayer;  but  he  could  wait  until  the  story  was 
finished,  and  meanwhile  he  would  venture  to 
pray. 

It  happened  that  Doodles  was  alone  when 
Captain  Bligh  fulfilled  his  promise,  and  he 
had  much  to  tell  his  mother  and  Blue  of  what 
the  genial  Captain  had  said.  But  one  thing 
he  kept  to  himself.  He  was  anxious  to  have 
the  gift  from  Heaven  come  as  a  surprise  to 
his  mother.  Thinking  that  the  Captain  was 
a  suitable  person  to  pass  judgment  on  such  a 
matter,  he  had  referred  to  him  his  weighty 
question,  and  had  received  so  prompt  and 
hearty  an  approval  of  praying  for  what  he 
wanted  that  no  longer  was  he  troubled  with 
doubts. 

"Jesus  says,  'Whatsoever  ye  ask,  that  will 
I  do.'  Take  the  Lord  at  his  word,  my  boy, 
and  you  will  never  go  far  wrong." 

That  had  been  the  Captain's  answer,  and 
it  comforted  Doodles  and  strengthened  his 
faith  in  such  measure  that  his  face  was  radiant 

202 


JOSEPH  PROVES  HIS  VALOR 

and  his  soul  went  singing  all  the  rest  of  the 
day. 

"Mother  need  n't  worry  any  more/'  he  told 
himself.  "God  will  surely  send  a  stove  before 
autumn."  And  the  prayer  was  constantly  in 
his  heart. 

For  a  while  Mrs.  Stickney's  fears  for  Doodles 
lessened.  The  cooler  weather  after  the  big 
storm  had  revived  his  strength  and  the  day  in 
the  country  had  seemed  to  add  fresh  power 
to  his  frail  body.  But  as  the  heat  increased 
again,  he  began  to  droop  as  before,  and  the 
mother  wondered  with  a  sickening  dread  how 
he  was  to  endure  the  debilitating  weeks  of 
August  that  were  close  at  hand.  Must  he  stay 
in  these  oven-like  rooms  to  die?  Why  should 
he  be  denied  a  breath  of  the  great  outdoors? 
She  resolved  to  carry  him  downstairs  that 
very  evening  and  give  him  a  taste  of  the  open 
air,  defiantly  pushing  aside  her  remembrance 
of  the  doctor's  warning,  "You  must  be  care- 
ful, very  careful  about  lifting."  Then  came 
the  surprise. 

About  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  a  man 
slowly  climbed  the  steep  stairs,  thumping 
something  ahead  of  him.  Doodles  heard  him 

203 


DOODLES 

plodding  up,  up,  up,  long  before  he  reached 
the  top  flight.  On  he  mounted,  step  by  step. 
The  listener  grew  eager.  Was  it  the  stove? 
Yet  one  man  could  not  bring  up  a  stove,  un- 
less it  were  a  very  little  one.  Perhaps  it  was  not 
for  them;  it  might  be  for  the  Frenchman  that 
lodged  in  the  front  room  on  the  other  side,  he 
had  an  express  package  the  other  day.  For 
an  instant  Doodles  began  to  lose  interest. 
Then  his  eyes  brightened  again  —  the  man 
was  almost  up !  He  grew  breathless  • —  a  red- 
dish yellow  something  popped  into  sight!  It 
had  wheels!  It  could  n't  be  —  but  it  was!  It 
was  a  wheel  chair!  The  man  had  stopped, 
puffing  and  smiling. 

"Stickney?"  he  queried,  "Master  Julius 
Stickney,"  reading  from  a  card  tied  to  one  of 
the  arms. 

"Oh,"  cried  Doodles,  "that's  me!" 

The  driver  grinned,  and  rolled  the  chair 
inside. 

"Want  to  try  it?"  he  asked. 

The  next  minute  Doodles  was  in,  almost  too 
overpowered  by  delight  to  say  his  thanks; 
but  he  recollected  just  as  the  man  was  go- 
ing. 

204 


JOSEPH  PROVES  HIS  VALOR 

Who  could  have  sent  it?  He  caught  up  the 
card  and  turned  it  over. 

"With  the  gladdest  wishes  of  the  Salvation 
Army." 

''Captain  Bligh!  dear  Captain  Bligh!"  he 
murmured,  and  gazed  lovingly  at  the  gift. 

That  it  was  not  brand-new,  Doodles  never 
guessed,  and  he  would  not  have  cared  if  he  had 
known.  It  was  his  wheel  chair!  In  those  first 
moments  of  ecstasy  the  boy  longed  for  his 
mother  and  Blue  to  help  him  bear  his  bliss. 

The  wheels  were  tempting.  He  rolled  him- 
self back  and  forth,  he  ventured  across  the 
room,  he  went  around  the  table  both  ways! 
How  easy  it  was!  Presently  he  was  in  the  dim 
bedroom,  exploring  every  corner  as  if  he  had 
never  seen  it  before.  He  was  brought  to  a 
sudden  stand  between  the  bed  and  the  bureau, 
but  finally  managed  to  back  out  of  the  narrow 
place  without  harm.  After  that  he  was  more 
careful;  it  would  never  do  for  Blue  to  catch 
him  in  such  a  predicament. 

As  soon  as  the  brother's  footstep  was 
heard,  Doodles  wheeled  himself  in  front  of 
the  doorway,  and  sat  motionless,  pale  with 
excitement. 

205 


DOODLES 

"  Where 'd  yer  get  it?"  Blue  had  stopped  on 
the  upper  step,  and  stood  staring. 

"Guess!"  laughed  the  other. 

"  Captain  Bligh." 

"Oh,  you're  a  splendid  guesser!"  admired 
Doodles,  and  promptly  plunged  into  an  ac- 
count of  the  last  hour. 

Nobody  knew  what  a  burden  was  lifted 
from  the  mother's  heart  by  the  kindness  of 
the  Captain  and  his  associates;  but  the  boys 
realized  that  she  was  uncommonly  gay,  and 
their  own  merriment  increased.  At  the  din- 
ner table  not  a  thought  was  given  to  the  brief 
bill  of  fare,  and  the  potatoes  disappeared  in 
unheard-of  numbers.  Doodles  had  a  wheel 
chair!  Doodles  was  going  outdoors! 

With  the  aid  of  the  ready  Joseph  the  chair 
was  carried  safely  to  the  sidewalk  and  the 
small  boy  seated  comfortably  among  his 
cushions.  Then  what  a  ride !  Over  to  the  park 
which  Doodles  had  seen  but  from  his  window; 
around  and  around  among  its  gorgeous  beds 
of  multicolored  flowers;  beside  the  pretty 
lake  with  its  sparkling  fountain  and  the  dart- 
ing gold  fish;  down  to  the  bathing-pools  where 
jolly  youngsters  were  splashing  about  in  the 
206 


JOSEPH  PROVES  HIS  VALOR 

cool  water;  and  finally  through  long  avenues 
of  arching  elms,  with  tricksy  little  sunbeams 
playing  tag  all  along  the  grassy  plats  that 
lined  the  sidewalks.  Doodles  was  in  a  world 
of  delight  from  the  moment  of  starting  until 
he  turned  the  home  corner.  Then,  for  one 
short  moment,  sorrow  seized  him;  but  he 
suddenly  remembered  that  to-morrow  and 
to-morrow  and  to-morrow  —  through  endless 
to-morrows  —  he  could  explore  again  the 
wonderland  of  outdoors,  which  was  so  brim- 
ming with  beauty. 

That  night  Doodles  slept  well,  and  at 
breakfast  he  looked  brighter  than  usual,  not- 
withstanding the  fulfilled  promise  of  increas- 
ing sultriness.  By  noon  the  heat  had  grown 
fierce,  and  Blue  looked  anxiously  at  his  brother. 

"I  wonder,"  he  began,  and  then  rushed  off 
to  find  Joseph. 

The  result  was  that  when  the  boys  started 
down  street  they  left  Doodles  waving  his  hand 
to  them  from  the  sidewalk  in  the  shadow  of 
The  Flatiron. 

"It  is  ever  so  much  cooler  here  than  it  is 
upstairs,"  he  had  chuckled  delightedly,  "and 
there'll  be  so  many  folks  to  see!" 
207 


DOODLES 

"We  could  to  cany  him  down  any  time," 
remarked  Joseph,  as  they  passed  beyond  sight 
of  the  happy  little  face. 

For  a  few  hours  each  day  Blue  was  helping 
at  the  public  library,  and  this  afternoon  he  was 
asked  to  remain  longer  than  usual,  to  assist 
one  of  the  girls  in  arranging  some  new  volumes. 
It  need  have  detained  him  only  a  half-hour 
or  so;  but  his  mind  was  divided  between  books 
and  Doodles,  and  he  worked  with  frantic 
haste;  in  consequence  he  made  mistakes  and 
had  to  run  back  and  forth  to  rectify  matters. 

"You  are  very  careless  to-day,"  observed 
the  young  woman.  "I  thought  I  could  rely  on 
you." 

With  flushed  face  and  uneven  breath  the 
boy  went  on  with  his  task.  He  worked  slowly 
this  tune,  realizing  that  hurry  would  doubtless 
bring  only  more  blunders.  At  last  he  was 
released;  but  it  was  half -past  four!  He  sped 
from  the  building  like  a  frightened  hare. 
Doodles  must  be  very  tired,  sitting  there  on 
the  sidewalk  all  these  hours.  What  would  he 
think?  He  was  probably  worrying  his  little 
heart  out.  Blue  bounded  recklessly  along, 
nearly  overturning  a  small  girl  who  was  in 

208 


JOSEPH  PROVES  HIS  VALOR 

his  way.  With  a  hurried  word  of  apology  he 
dashed  on. 

His  first  glimpse  of  the  spot  where  he  had 
last  seen  his  brother  showed  him  that  it  was 
vacant.  The  sidewalk  was  swarming  with 
boys  and  girls  —  a  glance  told  him  that  they 
were  not  of  the  immediate  neighborhood. 
Had  anything  —  oh!  had  anything  happened? 
There  was  the  wheel  chair,  —  but  Doodles 
was  not  in  it!  Who  — ?  It  was  Sim  Sweeney! 
And  Doodles,  big-eyed  with  terror,  was  sit- 
ting on  the  lowest  step  of  the  market! 

Blue's  feet  barely  touched  the  ground. 
Some  of  the  children  saw  him  coming,  and  fled. 
Sim  Sweeney,  trying  to  wheel  through  the 
screaming  troop  that  blocked  his  way,  knew 
naught  of  the  flying  figure  with  the  blazing 
eyes  until  he  was  suddenly  shoved  from  his 
seat  by  one  frantic  thrust.  But  before  Blue 
could  obtain  possession  of  the  chair  Sim's 
cronies,  were  upon  him,  and  the  fiercest  fight 
followed  that  The  Flatiron  had  ever  seen. 

Blue  struck  out  boldly,  here,  there,  on  every 
side;  but  five  against  one  makes  too  ill  bal- 
anced a  combat,  and  the  victim's  part  became 
still  more  hazardous  by  Mame  Sweeney's 

209 


DOODLES 

joining  the  assault.  Blue  would  not  know- 
ingly hit  a  girl,  and  when  Sim's  sister  added 
her  fiery  little  fists  to  those  of  the  others,  the 
boy  was  in  a  desperate  strait. 

"A — a — h!"  It  was  a  long-drawn  battle 
cry,  right  in  the  ears  of  the  attacking  party. 
But  the  few  that  heard  gave  it  small  notice. 
In  any  event  its  source  would  have  brought 
it  only  derision.  Joseph  Sitnitsky  had  never 
been  known  to  lift  an  arm  against  anybody, 
and  not  a  boy  among  them  but  would  have 
scorned  the  question  of  being  worsted  by  him 
in  a  fight  —  not  a  boy  except  Blue,  and  he 
was  too  much  engaged  in  returning  blows 
with  interest  even  to  know  that  Joseph  was 
near. 

For  weeks  afterward  it  was  marveled  over, 
—how  "that  little  tiger  of  a  Jew,"  employing 
all  the  arts  of  hand-to-hand  conflict,  which 
had  been  so  rigidly  taught  him,  felled  those 
five  bullies  to  the  ground  and  chased  Sim's 
sister  and  Sun  himself  as  far  as  the  corner, 
before  stopping  to  see  if  his  friend  were  in- 
jured or  to  comfort  Doodles. 

Blue  declared  that  he  was  able  to  help 
carry  his  brother  upstairs,  where  Granny 

210 


JOSEPH   PROVES   HIS   VALOR 

O'Donnell  promptly  mingled  sympathy  and 
lamentations  with  soap  and  water  and  healing 
salve.  By  the  time  Mrs.  Stickney  arrived, 
things  were  plodding  along  about  as  usual. 
Even  Doodles,  in  admiration  of  his  brother's 
pluck  and  Joseph's  prowess,  forgot  his  fright 
and  was  eager  to  talk  of  what  ever  afterwards 
was  referred  to  as  The  Flatiron  fight. 


CHAPTER  XX 

DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

"WHAT  a  sweet,  sweet  singer!" 

Doodles  turned  quickly  from  Caruso,  to  see 
a  child  on  the  threshold.  He  had  not  heard 
a  footfall. 

She  was  an  odd  little  creature,  straight  and 
slender,  with  a  mop  of  jet-black  curls,  skin 
dusky  as  a  gypsy's,  and  eyes  like  the  bluest 
sky.  Her  coarse  dress  of  red  cotton  stuff 
reached  nearly  to  her  ankles,  and  a  curious 
beaded  bodice  of  dark  green  scalloped  with 
gold  added  a  foreign,  fantastic  touch  to  her 
appearance. 

"How  soon  will  he  sing  again?"  The  ques- 
tion was  anxiously  put,  with  a  swift  backward 
glance. 

Doodles  started  "Annie  Laurie,"  and  at 
once  the  bird  took  up  the  tune,  the  listener 
in  the  doorway  clasping  her  tiny  hands  in 
delight. 

"Here,  you  kid  you!  what  yer  doin'  out 
212 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,   DETECTIVES 

there?  Did  n't  I  tell  yer  to  keep  where  yer 
b'long!" 

A  woman,  in  dingy  yellow  and  black,  strode 
across  the  hall,  and  with  a  jerk  of  her  bony 
arm  the  little  one  was  snatched  away.  Dolly 
Moon's  door  slammed,  and  Doodles  suddenly 
felt  lonesome. 

"She  might  have  let  her  stay  and  hear  Ca- 
ruso," he  lamented.  "Don't  see  what  hurt 
she  was  doing." 

As  soon  as  his  brother  came  home  he  told 
him  about  it. 

"That's  the  crowd  I  heard  coming  in  last 
night,"  Blue  decided.  "Guess  you'd  gone  to 
sleep.  'T  was  ten  or  eleven.  I  knew  't  must 
be  some  new  ones.  They  had  a  lot  of  traps, 
by  the  clatter.  Bet  they've  got  Gaylord's 
room,  too.  The  door  was  ajar  when  I  went 
for  some  water  this  morning,  and  two  men 
were  in  there." 

"I  wish  Mr.  Gaylord  was  here  now."  sighed 
Doodles. 

"Oh,    don't    you    worry!"    returned    his 

brother.    "He'll  be  back  again.    You  always 

have  to  go  with  the  folks  that  hire  you,  and 

he  had  to.   Mrs.  Graham '11  get  tired  o'  spin- 

213 


DOODLES 

nin'  round  in  an  auto  soon  as  it 's  cold  —  by 
September  prob'ly.  That'll  be  here  before 
you  can  say,  — 

"  Whimwham,  rock  or  wiggle! 

Whimwham,  whoa! 
Whimwham,  mock  or  giggle! 
Whimwham,  go!" 

"Oh!"  cried  Doodles  gleefully. 

"  Whimwham,  rock  a  wiggle! 

Whimwham,  whoa! 

Whimwham,  mock  a  wiggle  —  no,  giggle! 
Whimwham,  go!  " 

"There,  I  did!  And  it  hasn't  come!  I'm 
afraid  Mr.  Gaylord  won't  too."  His  voice 
dropped  into  sadness. 

"You  didn't  say  it  right,"  laughed  Blue. 

"Why  not?" 

"Nobody  does  till  they  catch  on." 

"Say  it  again,  please!" 

The  bit  of  nonsense  was  repeated  with  a 
dash  that  made  Doodles  gasp  in  admiration. 
But  his  second  trial  showed  no  improvement. 

"I  don't  care!"  he  cried  disgustedly.  "It 
would  n't  bring  Mr.  Gaylord  any  quicker  if 
I  said  it  right  a  million  times!  He's  a  lovely 
man  —  I  wish  he  was  here  this  minute !  And 
now  they've  got  his  room!" 

214 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

"Huh!  this  crowd  won't  stay  long,"  de- 
clared Blue.  "They  ain't  the  kind.  Oh,  say! 
I  forgot !  Joe  's  comin'  round  at  ten  o'clock, 
and  we're  going  up  on  Seip's  Hill." 

"I,  too?" 

"Well,  what  do  you  take  me  for?  Prob'ly 
we  shall  leave  you  here  in  the  rocking  chair, 
and  Joe  '11  wheel  me  all  the  way!" 

Doodles  chuckled. 

"Where's  your  brush?"  called  Blue  from 
the  bedroom.  "S'pose  you'd  have  a  fit  if  your 
hair  was  n't  fixed  up!  If  mine  was  curly  like 
yours,  catch  me  fussin'  to  brush  it  every  other 
minute!  —  There's  Joseph  now!"  as  a  foot 
was  heard  upon  the  stairs.  And  he  ran  to  wel- 
come him. 

On  the  following  day  Dolly  Moon's  door 
was  again  ajar.  It  had  long  had  a  habit  of 
unlatching  with  the  least  puff  of  air.  Coming 
up  from  the  street  Blue  spied  it,  and  he  turned 
that  way.  The  picturesque  little  stranger  was 
in  range  of  the  slit  of  light. 

"Hello,  kiddie!" 

It  was  a  cheerful,  friendly  greeting;  but  the 
only  answer  was  the  prompt  banging  of  the 
door.  The  boy  retreated,  surprised  and  angry. 
215 


DOODLES 

"They  need  n't  put  on  airs!"  he  muttered 
indignantly.  "They  aren't  any  better  than 
other  folks.  Granny  O'Donnell  would  n't  do 
that,  nor  anybody  else  in  this  house." 

Little  was  seen  by  the  Stickneys  of  their 
new  neighbors.  Occasionally  the  woman  or 
one  of  the  men  appeared  in  the  corridor;  but 
the  child  was  not  in  sight.  Late  one  after- 
noon, however,  Blue  discovered  the  door 
again  unlatched.  Cautiously  he  stole  across 
the  passage.  In  a  farther  corner  of  the  room 
was  a  bed,  and  above  the  coverlet  the  boy 
discerned  the  little  one's  face. 

"That's  why  I  haven't  seen  her,"  he 
thought.  "Measles,  prob'ly  —  they're  all 
round." 

The  rustling  sounds  back  of  the  door  were 
broken  by  a  moan.  Then,  in  a  man's  voice, 
was  observed :  — 

"Bet  she'sgoin'  to  die!" 

"Just  our  luck!"  responded  another  be- 
yond Blue's  vision. 

" All  the  same—  " 

The  speaker  approached  the  door,  but 
when  a  slam  announced  its  shutting  the 
nimble  listener  was  out  of  sight. 

216 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

It  was  barely  half  an  hour  afterwards  when 
a  man  stepped  out  of  the  room  and  beckoned 
Blue  into  the  corridor. 

•  "Say,"  he  began  in  a  hushed  voice,  "my 
kid's  sick.  Can  you  go  for  the  doctor?  I'll 
pay  you,"  he  added,  as  the  boy  hesitated. 

"How  much?" 

"A  quarter." 

"What  doctor  you  want?"  came  with  an 
indifference  that  Blue  did  not  feel.  Quarters 
were  not  picked  up  every  day  right  in  The 
Flatiron. 

"Dr.  Alford,  up  on  Boniface  Street,"  re- 
turned the  man  with  a  wary  glint  in  his  nar- 
row eyes. 

"Boniface  Street!  Why,  that's  a  mile,  sure! 
There's  a  doctor  round  the  corner  - 

"It's  Dr.  Alford  or  none!"  interrupted  the 
man  defiantly. 

"It's  awful  hot  to  tramp  'way  over  there," 
argued  Blue,  seeing  in  the  sparkling  scarf  pin 
a  possible  increase  of  fee,  although  only  the 
day  before  he  had  walked  double  the  distance 
simply  to  save  Granny  O'Donnell's  rheumatic 
legs  and  to  hear  her  hearty,  "  God  bless  ye,  me 
b'y!"  But  he  remembered  his  recent  rebuff. 

217 


DOODLES 

"Well,  call  it  half  a  dollar,  then.  Will  you 
go,  or  not?" 

"Oh,  I  s'pose  I'll  have  to,  seeing  you're 
a  neighbor!"  returned  the  lad,  his  heart  skip- 
ping merrily  at  prospect  of  the  big  silver 
piece. 

The  physician  delighted  Blue  by  bringing 
him  back  in  his  car;  but  he  shut  his  patron's 
door  with  such  precision  that  it  stayed  latched, 
and  the  boy  scowled  disappointedly. 

Then,  the  doctor's  voice  coming  to  his  ears, 
he  bent  to  the  keyhole. 

"Please  fetch  me  a  glass  of  water — " 

Not  an  instant  to  spare!  When  the  door 
opened,  Blue  was  safe  in  the  dust  closet  oppo- 
site. It  was  a  handy  retreat,  and  —  to  admit 
the  truth  —  this  was  not  the  very  first  time 
it  had  had  an  occupant. 

Presently,  when  all  was  again  quiet,  the 
boy  emerged,  sprinkled  with  the  sweepings  of 
the  top  floor  of  The  Flatiron.  He  was  gleeful 
at  finding  the  door  ajar. 

The  doctor  was  holding  a  glass  to  the  lips 
of  his  little  patient,  who  —  it  looked  to  the 
peeper  —  clutched  it  so  frantically  with  her 
teeth  that  it  was  removed  only  with  force. 
218 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

"We  didn't  dare  give  her  a  drop,"  re- 
marked the  woman,  standing  by. 

"It  is  what  she  needs.  Another  glass, 
please." 

"Oh,  no!  not  so  much!"  she  objected. 

"Do  as  the  doc'  says!"  commanded  one 
of  the  men. 

Blue,  absorbed  in  the  talk,  had  delayed  too 
long  —  the  dust  closet  was  out  of  the  question. 
So  the  woman  met  him  sauntering  towards 
his  own  door,  as  if  he,  too,  had  been  on  an 
errand  to  the  public  faucet. 

When  the  eavesdropper  returned,  the  phy- 
sician was  saying :  — 

"She  would  not  have  lived  more  than  four 
hours.  She  was  dying  for  lack  of  water.  When 
she  wakes  give  her  more  if  she  wants  it,  and, 
unless  she  sleeps  quietly,  keep  up  the  medi- 
cine through  the  night.  I  will  see  her  again 
in  the  morning.  It  is  a  plain  case  of  measles, 
and  I  shall  report  it  to  the  health  officials." 

Blue's  admiration  of  the  man  who  could 
keep  one  from  dying  by  simply  administer- 
ing water  was  sufficient  to  hold  him  on  the 
sidewalk  an  hour  and  a  half  awaiting  the  doc- 
tor's second  visit.  He  spied  the  runabout 
219 


DOODLES 

when  it  was  still  far  up  the  street,  and  he  was 
at  the  curb  when  the  car  stopped. 

"How  is  your  little  friend?"  the  physician 
asked. 

"She  isn't  my  friend,"  the  boy  answered. 
"Huh!  they  would  n't  let  me  say  hello  to  her. 
But,"  lowering  his  voice  confidentially,  "I 
should  think  they  were  all  dead  in  there. 
Have  n't  heard  a  sound  this  morning." 

"They  are  sleeping  late."  Dr.  Alford  was 
mounting  the  stairs. 

Blue  followed.  Curiosity  made  him  bolder 
than  usual. 

A  knock  brought  no  response.  Another  rap, 
more  authoritative  than  the  first,  and  yet 
another  and  another  left  the  two  still  listen- 
ing for  the  sound  that  did  not  come.  Finally 
the  doctor  grasped  the  knob  and  slowly 
opened  the  door.  Blue  had  drawn  back, 
ready  for  flight;  but  he  peeped  around  the 
corner  —  the  room  was  vacant !  The  small 
adjoining  apartment  was  also  empty  of  life. 

"Bet  they  couldn't  pay  their  rent!"  ven- 
tured the  boy.  "Lucky  I  got  my  fifty  cents 
last  night.  He  gave  me  that  for  going  after 
you." 

220 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

"You  are  fortunate.  It  does  n't  look  as  if 
I  should  get  rich  on  the  case,  does  it?" 

"Did  n't  they  pay  you?" 

The  physician  shook  his  head. 

The  lad  suddenly  grew  grave.  His  hand 
closed  over  the  silver  piece  in  his  pocket. 

"You  can  have  this."  He  thrust  his  half- 
dollar  into  the  doctor's  palm. 

"No,  no!   Keep  your  money  - 

"But  you  earned  it  more'n  I  did!"  pro- 
tested Blue.  "You  saved  the  kid's  life,  and 
you  ought  to  have  it." 

Dr.  Alford  said  his  thanks  with  an  odd  little 
smile;  but  he  dropped  the  coin  back  into  the 
boy's  pocket. 

"Queer,"  Blue  told  Doodles,  "how  that 
crowd  could  get  out,  traps  and  all,  and  we  not 
hear  'em!  They  made  noise  enough  comin'  up. 
There  was  the  Muldoons,"  he  mused,  "their 
duds  bumped  along  all  the  way  downstairs. 
I  should  think  Granny  would  have  heard 
'em  —  and  maybe  she  did!"  Off  he  dashed, 
bursting  into  the  room  at  the  foot  of  the  flight. 

The  old  Irish  woman  was  paring  potatoes. 
She  looked  up  with  a  happy,  "  Good-mornin' 
to  ye!" 

221 


DOODLES 

"Good-morning!"  responded  the  boy.  "Feel 
first-rate?  " 

"Oh,  as  good  as  annybody  cud,  an'  not 
shleep  more'n  two  winks  all  th'  night!" 

"What  kept  you  awake,  Granny?" 

"Sure,  me  poor  old  achin'  legs!" 

"I  didn't  know  but  'twas  folks  goin'  up 
and  down  past  your  door,"  replied  Blue  with 
artful  innocence. 

"No,  they  wa' n't  manny  of  'em.  Mary 
Ottatoe,  I  heerd  her  come  up  'long  'bout  nine, 
an'  McCabe  was  just  afther.  Th'  Frinchman 
with  th'  sthrange  name  —  I  do  be  always 
f 'rgitt'n  ut  —  he  sthayed  up  there  all  th' 
avenin'.  An'  th'  new  folks  acrost  f'm  ye  on'y 
go  out  now  an'  thin  f'r  a  bite  or  a  drink. 
'Long  toward  mornin'  I  heerd  'em  stheppin' 
round  soft  somewheres  —  goin'  to  th'  sink, 
prob'ly.  But  they  wa'  n't  noise  enough  all 
night  to  kape  a  dog  awake." 

The  boy  was  puzzled.  It  was  clear  to  him 
that  the  crowd  did  not  take  their  goods  down 
by  way  of  the  staircase  unless  Granny  dozed 
more  than  she  realized.  One  thing  was  cer- 
tain, —  they  were  gone !  But  how  did  they  get 
out? 

222 


DOODLES  AND   BLUE,   DETECTIVES 

"Blue,  me  dear,"  Granny  was  saying,  "if 
ye  be  down  to  Mis'  Flaherty's  befure  dinner, 
will  ye  fetch  me  a  loaf?  Ye  '11  find  a  nickel 
in  th'  cup  on  th'  shilf  there.  Ye 're  a  good 
b'y,  Blue  —  none  knows  ut  betther  'n  mesilf, 
with  ye  always  runnin'  here  an'  there  an' 
savin'  me  old  legs!" 

Mrs.  Flaherty,  proprietor  of  the  little 
corner  bakery,  tore  a  piece  from  an  old 
"Morning  News"  that  lay  on  the  counter,  and 
wrapped  the  bread  in  it. 

On  the  end  of  the  package  the  boy  spied  a 
picture.  He  did  not  care  for  pictures,  but 
Doodles  did.  He  was  always  carrying  home 
gay  cards,  hand-bills,  and  stray  sheets  from 
illustrated  papers  that  blew  his  way.  So  he 
begged  the  wrapper  from  Granny,  and  car- 
ried it  upstairs  to  his  brother.  Then  he 
sauntered  along  the  corridor  to  the  recently 
vacated  apartment,  and  lingered  searchingly 
over  the  litter  that  was  there,  vaguely  hop- 
ing to  find  an  answer  to  his  puzzle.  But  the 
bits  of  paper  and  the  empty  boxes,  the  broken 
plates  and  fragments  of  cloth  told  no  secrets, 
and  he  finally  closed  the  door  softly  and  went 
back  to  Doodles. 

223 


DOODLES 

"Oh,  come  here  quick!"  cried  his  brother. 
"I  thought  you'd  gone  away.  Just  look  at 
that!"  He  held  out  the  newspaper  which  had 
wrapped  Granny's  bread,  and  pointed  to  a 
picture. 

"Yes,  it's  pretty,"  Blue  responded  indif- 
ferently. 

"No,  no!"  protested  Doodles,  his  eyes  big 
with  excitement,  "don't  you  see?" 

"Why,  no,  I  don't  see  anything  very  won- 
derful —  nothing  but  a  kid's  picture." 

"Oh!"  the  voice  dropped  to  an  eager 
breath,  "it's  the  little  girl  in  there!  —  that 
was!"  He  nodded  towards  Dolly  Moon's 
door. 

"Wh— what?"  It  was  Blue's  turn,  as  with 
astonishment  he  scanned  the  picture.  "I 
b'lieve  it  is!"  he  ejaculated  softly.  "But 
how—" 

"I  knew  her  in  a  minute!"  Doodles  broke 
in.  "Only  her  hair  is  light  there  and  she's 
dressed  so  different." 

"But  what  is  it  anyhow?"  Blue  turned  to 
the  headlines  —  "  Oh !  kidnaped !  —  The  crowTd 
stole  her!"  The  words  died  in  a  startled 
breath. 

224 


DOODLES  AND   BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

"Read  it  all!"  prodded  Doodles,  as  if  his 
brother  were  not  as  hungry  as  he  for  every 
item  of  the  article. 

"' Marshall  Fleming's  youngest  child  .  .  . 
Daphne,  six  years  old  ...  beautiful  suburban 
home  .  .  .  playing  on  the  grounds,"1'  mut- 
tered Blue  along  the  paragraphs,  " ' .  .  .  missed 
her  at  three  o'clock  .  .  .  police  .  .  .  detec- 
tives ...  no  clue  .  .  .  mother  nearly  crazed 
with  grief." 

"Isn't  it  dreadful?"  sorrowed  Doodles. 
"I  could  cry!  Such  a  pretty  little  girl  —  and 
her  poor  mother!" 

"If  we'd  only  known  it  before!"  lamented 
Blue.  He  flung  off  his  cap  with  a  gesture  of 
disgust.  Yesterday  rescue  would  have  been 
easy  —  but  now! 

Doodles  picked  up  the  paper  and  gazed 
regretfully  at  the  picture. 

"Le'  's  see  it  again!"  Blue  put -out  his 
hand.  "Maybe  't  is  n't  she  after  all;  but  it 
does  look  like  her.  Why,  this  paper  's  three 
weeks  old!  I  should  think  the  doctor 'd  'a' 
known  her." 

"You  did  n't,"  smiled  Doodles. 

"I  ain't  sure  now,"  laughed  the  other. 

225 


DOODLES 

"I  am,"  Doodles  declared.  "Look  at  her 
chin,  with  that  cunning  little  dimple!  And 
her  eyes  —  just  exactly  like  'em!  That  mite 
of  a  curl  over  there,  and  the  funny  little 
pucker  in  her  forehead  —  I  noticed  'em  both 
while  she  was  listening  to  Caruso." 

"You'd  see  what  nobody  else  would," 
laughed  Blue.  "Yes,  I  guess  it's  her  fast 
enough."  He  shook  his  head  sadly.  "Wish  I 
knew  where  they've  gone.  I  don't  see  how 
they  could  lug  all  those  chairs  and  things  — " 

"Say!  you  don't  s'pose  they  could  get  'em 
into  the  triangle,  do  you?"  Doodles's  soft 
voice  lowered  hesitantly. 

"Naw!"  scouted  Blue.  "Why,  ther' 
would  n't  be  room  for  half  their  duds,  let 
alone  themselves.  Besides,  they  could  n't  get 
in  —  door 's  always  locked  —  and  they  could 
n't  stay  in  if  they  did!" 

"I  know,"  Doodles  agreed,  "it's  little  and 
stuffy." 

"Stuffy!  I  guess  it  is  now!  When  that  old 
tramp  made  such  a  row  over  it,  't  was  n't 
such  awful  hot  weather,  but  he  could  n't 
stand  it  only  one  night.  He  said  it  was  n't 
fit  to  put  a  dog  in,  if  you  wanted  any  more 

226 


DOODLES  AND   BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

of  the  dog.  Ther'  'a  just  one  little  mite  of 
a  skylight  —  why,  the  kid  could  n't  live  there 
a  minute!  —  no,  the  crowd  ain't  in  that  hole!" 

"I  s'pose  not,"  replied  Doodles  sadly.  "I 
only  thought  - 

Blue  did  not  heed  the  unfinished  sentence. 
With  all  his  arguments  to  the  contrary,  he  was 
wondering  if  it  were  possible  for  them  to  - 
but,  no,  of  course,  it  could  n't  be! 

Beyond  the  sink  the  passageway  narrowed, 
and  led  to  a  closet  where  by  means  of  a  rough 
ladder  one  might  climb  to  the  roof.  At  the 
foot  of  these  steps  Blue  presently  stood,  tell- 
ing himself  that  he  was  a  fool  for  taking  any 
pains  to  prove  such  an  absurd  idea.  Yet  he 
mounted  the  ladder,  and  gained  a  view  of  the 
broad  expanse  of  shabby  tin  that  covered  The 
Flatiron,  and  the  big,  crumbling  chimneys, 
—  that  was  all.  The  tiny  skylight,  which  was 
what  he  had  come  to  inspect,  was  behind  a 
chimney,  only  a  bit  of  the  framework  being 
visible. 

"Of  course,  it  isn't  open,"  he  muttered; 

"  it  never  is!   A  week  ago,  when  Winkle  was 

in  there,  it  was  shut  tight  as  a* drum.   And  he 

locked  that  door  all  right,  too,  —  I  heard 

227 


DOODLES 

him!"  He  started  down  the  steps,  and  then 
halted.  "I'll  find  out!"  he  decided,  and 
turned  again. 

At  the  top,  he  threw  a  foot  from  the  open- 
ing; but  the  rusty  tin  cracked  warningly. 
"Bother! "  he  ejaculated,  and  drew  back. 

The  next  building  was  somewhat  lower 
than  The  Flatiron,  but  beyond  rose  a  new 
block  that  overtopped  its  surroundings. 

"If  I  were  in  one  of  those  rooms,"  he 
mused,  "I  could  tell  quick  enough." 

At  the  foot  of  the  ladder  he  hesitated,  ears 
alert ;  then  he  tiptoed  to  the  door  at  the  end 
of  the  passage,  his  bare  feet  noiseless  as  a 
cat's. 

Not  a  breath  from  within! 

"Of  course  they  couldn't  be  there,"  he 
argued  disgustedly.  Nevertheless  he  told 
Doodles  that  he  was  going  down  on  the  street, 
and  when  he  reached  the  sidewalk  he  saun- 
tered towards  the  Empire  Building.  At  the 
entrance  he  accosted  a  boy  with  the  New 
York  papers. 

"  Say,  Tom,  let  me  have  a  couple  of  those  to 
sell!" 

"What  for?" 

228 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

"For  fun."  Blue  drew  forth  the  proper 
number  of  coins. 

With  the  papers  under  his  arm  he  went 
boldly  up  the  stairs.  On  the  fifth  floor  several 
doors  stood  invitingly  open.  He  chose  an 
office  where  a  man  sat  writing  near  a  farther 
window.  As  soon  as  he  was  well  in  the  room, 
however,  he  was  arrested  by  a  bluff  "No!" 
and  he  walked  meekly  away. 

Three  times  his  efforts  were  baffled ;  but  the 
fourth  attempt  found  him  not  only  making  a 
sale  but  put  in  possession  of  a  fact  that 
whirled  his  brain  —  the  small  roof  window  in 
the  three-cornered  room  at  the  top  of  The 
Flatiron  was  atilt! 

"It  couldn't  have  been  left  open  all  this 
time !  It  would  have  rained  in.  Besides,  when 
old  Winkle  was  there  lookin'  round,  it  was 
shut  —  I  know  that !  They  must  be  —  but 
how  could  they,  with  the  door  locked?" 

Fragments  like  these  chased  one  another 
through  his  perplexed  mind.  He  and  Doodles 
consulted  long  and  earnestly  over  the  situa- 
tion. 

"This  afternoon  I'll  find  out  for  sure!" 
declared  Blue. 

229 


DOODLES 

"How?" 

"I'll  watch  in  the  dust  closet!"  he  whis- 
pered. "Some  of  the  crowd '11  be  comin'  to 
the  sink,  and  they'll  take  the  tune  when 
they  think  everybody's  out." 

"Splendid!"  beamed  Doodles  softly.  "I'll 
keep  just  as  still,  and  they'll  suppose  I've 
gone  to  ride." 

"Oh,  I  forgot  your  ride!"  Blue  looked  dis- 
mayed. "And  you  will  roast  in  here  with  the 
door  shut!" 

"No,  I  shan't ! "  asserted  Doodles  pluckily. 
"It's  the  only  way  —  and  think  of  that  poor 
little  girl's  mother!" 

After  much  discussion  it  was -agreed  to  say 
nothing  of  the  matter  to  any  one  while  it  was 
in  so  uncertain  a  stage. 

"Mother  worries  over  everything  nowa- 
days," reasoned  Blue,  "and  this  would  only 
be  an  extra  trouble.  But  if  we  should  nab 
'em  —  oh,  would  n't  she  be  glad!" 

The  dinner  hour  never  seemed  so  long. 
Two  or  three  times  the  big  secret  almost  burst 
from  its  keeping.  At  last,  however,  Mrs. 
Stickney  was  off,  the  top-floor  lodgers  that 
came  home  at  noon  had  disappeared  down 

230 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

the  stairway,  the  one  o'clock  whistles  had 
shrieked  their  final  summons,  and  Blue  was 
free  to  begin  his  eager  lookout  from  the  dust 
closet. 

At  first  time  passed  swiftly.  If  they  should 
come  —  oh,  if  only  they  would !  —  then  he 
could  get  that  pretty  kid  away  from  those 
horrid  people.  How  glad  her  mother  would 
be  to  have  her  back  again!  But  could  the 
little  thing  live,  sick  as  she  was,  in  that  roast- 
ing oven!  All  at  once  Blue  doubted  more  than 
ever  that  the  crowd  was  there.  Probably  no 
one  was  in  the  room  after  all,  and  he  was 
staying  here  just  for  nothing!  Would  n't 
folks  laugh  if  they  should  hear  of  it!  But, 
then,  how  came  that  skylight  open?  Of 
course,  Winkle  might  have  come  in  and 
opened  it,  to  air  the  place.  The  more  he 
thought  of  that,  the  more  probable  it  seemed. 
He  could  have  gone  by  their  door  a  dozen 
times  when  they  did  not  see  him,  —  perhaps 
the  day  before  while  he  was  taking  Doodles 
out  to  ride.  But  could  those  folks  have  got 
down  the  stairs  without  Granny's  hearing 
them?  Oh,  if  they  were  coming  to  the  sink, 
he  wished  they'd  hurry  up!  How  hot  it  was! 

231 


DOODLES 

The  closet  suddenly  became  suffocatingly 
close.  He  opened  the  door  wider  and  drew 
a  long,  deep  breath.  He  had  half  a  mind  to 
give  it  up  and  go  and  give  Doodles  a  spin. 
It  must  be  three  or  half-past! 

The  bell  in  a  nearby  tower  struck  the*  hour. 

"Only  two  o'clock!"  Blue  complained 
scowlingly. 

The  moments  dragged.  He  did  n't  believe 
the  crowd  was  there,  he  told  himself.  He 
would  n't  stay  and  be  such  a  fool !  Cautiously 
opening  the  door,  he  put  one  foot  beyond  the 
sill  —  a  thought  came  to  him  of  that  little 
girl's  mother.  He  hesitated,  and  a  picture  of 
Doodles  arose  in  his  mind  —  Doodles  wait- 
ing patiently  for  news  from  the  lookout. 
With  a  determined  toss  of  his  head  he  stepped 
softly  back  and  began  again  his  watch  from 
the  narrow  peephole. 

"I'll  stick  it  out  if  I  have  to  stay  here  all 
night!"  he  vowed  grimly. 

It  was  very  quiet  on  the  top  floor.  Not  a 
sound  reached  the  boy's  ears  save  the  far- 
away buzz  of  a  sewing  machine  and  the  more 
distant  clatter  of  the  street.  He  leaned  against 
the  door  frame,  and  closed  his  eyes.  Presently 
232 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

his  head  slipped  past  its  support,  and  he 
awoke  with  a  start.  He  was  about  to  move, 
when  he  realized  where  he  was  and  stood  mo- 
tionless —  somebody  was  at  the  sink!  It  was 
the  man  who  had  sent  him  for  the  doctor! 

With  furtive  glances  down  the  hall,  the 
pitcher  was  filled.  Then  without  a  sound  the 
figure  glided  out  of  sight. 

Blue  waited  long  enough  to  be  sure  of  a  safe 
passage,  and  then  sped  noiselessly  back  to 
Doodles.  An  exultant  gesture  told  of  success, 
and  with  a  few  quick  words  he  was  away. 

First  he  must  find  Thomas  Fitzpatrick; 
that  was  his  plan.  He  knew  where  he  would 
be  likely  to  catch  him  at  this  hour,  and  down 
to  Tremont  Street  he  ran.  Soon  the  police- 
man was  spied  far  ahead.  Blue's  feet  made 
short  the  intervening  distance,  and  he  grabbed 
the  officer's  sleeve  just  as  he  was  turning 
Gates  House  Corner. 

Fitzpatrick  smiled  his,  " Hello!" 

"Say,"  began  the  boy  in  an  eager  under- 
tone, "d'  you  want  a  dandy  job?" 

"What's  up?  Bird  swiped  again?" 

"No!  He 'sail  right.   R'member  the  Flem- 
ing kid  't  was  stole  two  or  three  weeks  ago?" 
233 


DOODLES 

The  officer  nodded. 

"I  know  where  she  is!  In  five  minutes  you 
can  get  her  an'  the  whole  crowd!" 

"Oh,  go  'long!  I'm  too  old  a  boy  to  swal- 
low such  flummery!"  The  policeman  laughed 
good-humoredly. 

"  Honest,  I  ain't  foolin'!  But  I  can't  do  it 
alone,  an'  I  thought  you  'd  like  the  job.  You  'd 
better  hurry  though  —  they  might  skip ! 
Don't  b'lieve  they  will  before  dark,  but  they 
might  if  they  got  scared." 

Fitzpatrick  scanned  Blue's  face,  but  found 
no  hint  of  a  hoax. 

" Where  are  they?" 

The  boy  cast  a  quick  glance  behind.  There 
was  nobody  near. 

"Flatiron!  But  you'd  never  guess  where- 
abouts to  look  for 'em!" 

"  Come  in  here ! "  The  man  led  the  way  to  a 
telephone  booth.  ' '  Now  shoot  out  yer  story ! ' ' 

Blue  did,  the  officer  repeating  it  briefly  to 
his  chief. 

It  was  all  managed  so  quickly  that  the  little 
party  of  four  was  soon  under  way,  Fitzpatrick 
and  Blue  ahead,  and  two  big  policemen  fol- 
lowing. 

234 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

It  was  the  most  exciting  hour  of  Blue's  life 
when  he  guided  the  uniformed  trio  to  the 
little  triangular  room  at  the  top  of  The  Flat- 
iron.  There  were  silent  hand  greetings  to 
Doodles  as  they  passed  the  kitchen  door,  but 
nobody  ever  guessed  how  the  helpless  little 
lad  longed  to  be  one  of  the  party. 

Blue  pointed  to  the  door  at  the  end  of 
the  corridor,  and  each  man  grasped  his  re- 
volver. Fitzpatrick  motioned  the  boy  back, 
and  he  allowed  the  others  to  go  by;  yet  he 
kept  close  behind,  losing  sight  of  danger  in 
his  determination  to  see  the  affair  to  its 
finish. 

Without  warning  the  door  was  burst  open, 
there  were  quick  commands,  mingled  with 
oaths  and  pistol  shots,  followed  by  a  fierce 
scuffle.  Then  the  law-breakers  were  powerless 
in  the  hands  of  their  captors,  and  Fitzpatrick 
turned  to  the  little  one  on  the  floor,  who  in 
her  fright  had  cuddled  close  under  her  ragged 
coverings. 

"Hello,  kiddie!"  came  a  cheery  voice  from 
behind  the  tall  officer,  and  as  the  child  was 
tenderly  lifted  from  her  wretched  bed  she 
gave  a  quivering  smile  to  Blue  in  return  for 

235 


DOODLES 

his  assurance  that  she  was  "going  right  home 
to  mother." 

" Bring  her  into  our  room,"  said  the  boy; 
"it's  much  cooler  there.  Yes,  we've  had 
measles,  Doodles  and  I,  both  of  us,"  in  answer 
to  the  question. 

"I  want  to  hear  the  bird  sing!"  demanded 
the  child,  as  she  spied  Caruso,  and  in  response 
to  her  implied  praise  the  mocker  caroled  a 
welcome. 

The  officer  threw  him  a  glance  and  word  of 
approval.  "He  can  do  it,  can't  he!" 

"Huh!"  laughed  Blue,  "that  ain't  any- 
thing. Make  him  sing,  Doodles!" 

As  the  lad  began  to  whistle,  the  bird  did 
not  seem  to  notice.  He  continued  to  eat  and 
drink,  quite  as  if  music  had  no  interest  for 
him.  Then,  suddenly,  without  a  preliminary 
note,  he  burst  into  "  Annie  Laurie,"  and  sang 
it  to  its  end,  delighting  the  small  girl,  and  as- 
tonishing Fitzpatrick. 

"I  would  n't  have  believed  it  of  him!  Sure, 
I  wouldn't!"  The  man  eyed  the  slim  bird 
incredulously. 

"Is  n't  he  beautiful?"  beamed  Doodles. 

"He  is  that!"  agreed  the  officer. 

236 


DOODLES  AND  BLUE,  DETECTIVES 

Whereupon  Blue  was  for  showing  his  fur- 
ther accomplishments;  but  the  man  smilingly 
shook  his  head,  and  bade  a  hasty  good-bye, 
coupled  with  a  promise  to  come  again  when  he 
had  no  kidnapers  on  hand. 

As  he  went  down,  Granny  O'Donnell  came 
up.  Granny  was  never  so  happy  as  when 
nursing  a  sick  child,  and  by  the  time  Dr. 
Alford  arrived  she  and  little  Daphne  Fleming 
were  the  best  of  friends. 

Since  they  had  not  succeeded  in  hearing 
direct  from  her  parents,  the  doctor  took  his 
patient  to  the  hospital,  and  they  were 
scarcely  away  before  the  neighbors  began  to 
flock  in,  rumors  of  the  affair  having  flown  to 
all  parts  of  The  Flatiron. 

Blue  started  to  recount  the  exciting  story, 
but  remembering  his  undelivered  papers  he 
was  obliged  to  leave  it  to  the  telling  of  Granny 
and  Doodles. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

SURPRISING   NEWS 

BLUE  had  not  proceeded  far  on  his  way  to 
the  Courant  office  before  he  discovered  that 
all  at  once  he  had  become  of  unusual  interest 
to  his  companions. 

"How'd  you  hear  anything  about  it?"  he 
queried,  as  Billy  Frick  ran  alongside,  eagerly 
begging  for  particulars  of  the  arrest. 

"Huh!  where  d'  ye  s'pose  I  keep  myself? 
My,  but  ain't  you  th'  lucky  one!" 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  such  a  great!  Kind  o'  fun 
to  see  'em  caught.  Doodles  thought  of  the 
triangle;  I  never  should  have." 

"Then '11  he  git  th'  money?" 

"What  money?" 

"Aw,  how  innercent  we  be!" 

"I  don't  know  what  you're  drivin'  at," 
protested  Blue. 

Billy  caught  his  arm. 

"See  here,  Blue  Stick'!  just  you  look  me 
straight,  an'  say  that  again!" 

238 


SURPRISING  NEWS 

"Sure,  I  don't!"  Blue  laughed. 

Three  boys  came  running  across  the  street, 
and  Billy  turned  to  them. 

"Say,  fellers!  he's  pertendin'  he  ain't  on  to 
that  three  thousand 't  Old  Flemin'  - 

' '  Ho !  what  a  good  one ! "  -  "  By  ter-morrer 
he'll  be  so  swell  he  won't  know  us!"  —  "Say, 
whin  they  goin'  ter  pay  ut?" 

"  I  wish  you  'd  say  plain  out  what  you  mean, 
an'  stop  talkin'  blind!"  Blue  was  becoming 
irritated. 

"Honest,  don't  ye  know  ther"s  three  thou- 
sand dollars  comin'  to  ye  — 

"No,  I  don't!"  snapped  Blue.  "And  you 
might  as  well  stop  right  now  tryin'  to  stuff 
me!  I  ain't  a  kid!" 

"Hear  him!"  shouted  Billy,  doubling  over 
with  glee.  "Come  on  in,  an'  I'll  show  yer 
whether  we're  stumn'  or  not!" 

Blue  was  pulled  towards  a  grocery,  and  in 
a  moment  he  and  Billy  were  foremost  of  a 
group  facing  the  proprietor  of  the  shop. 

"Say,  Mr.  Grumley,  how  much'd  they 
offer  for  that  Flemin'  kid?" 

"Three  thousand  dollars.  But  you're  too 
late,  Bill!  They've  just  found  the  child  an' 
239 


DOODLES 

the  hull  of  'em  up  in  The  Flatiron,  an'  the 
reward's  goin'  to  a  boy  't  lives  there." 

"A — h!  wha'  do  ye  say  to  that?"  shrieked 
Billy  delightedly.  Then,  to  the  grocer,  "He's 
the  feller!  An'  he  would  have  it  we  was  tryin' 
to  fool  him!  Do  ye  b'lieve  it  now?"  with  a 
sharp  slap  on  Blue's  back. 

The  boy  nodded  dazedly,  and  then  fled,  the 
others  close  at  his  heels. 

Three  thousand  dollars!  It  spun  through 
his  brain,  it  thumped  in  his  breast,  it  shouted 
itself  in  his  ears  until  he  felt  that  everybody 
must  hear  it,  —  " Three  thousand  dollars! 
Three  thousand  dollars!"  What  would 
Doodles  say?  And  his  mother?  Pshaw,  it 
could  n't  be  true!  The  money — if  there  really 
were  any  —  would  go  to  the  police.  He  was  a 
fool  for  harboring  the  hope  of  it  —  he,  a  pen- 
niless nobody  who  only  showed  the  way! 

Yet,  notwithstanding  all  this,  with  his  last 
paper  delivered  he  was  speeding  back  to  The 
Flatiron,  excitedly  longing  to  see  how  aston- 
ished Doodles  would  be.  But  one  glance  at 
his  brother's  face  told  him  that  the  news  wras 
already  there. 

Doodles  was   sitting  motionless,   his   big 

240 


SURPRISING  NEWS 

eyes  round  and  radiant,  yet  with  a  hint  of  awe 
in  them  which  reminded  Blue  of  the  time 
when  he  first  clasped  his  violin. 

Granny  O'Donnell  and  Mrs.  Homan  were 
still  discussing  the  affair,  the  younger  woman 
with  eager  gestures,  Granny  placid  as  usual. 

"Wai,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Homan,  as  the  boy 
dashed  in,  "I  s'pose  yer '11  be  such  a  big  bug 
now 't  yer  won't  think  of  'sociatin'  with  th' 
rest  of  us!"  Her  little  shrill  laugh  rang 
through  the  room. 

Granny  rose  to  her  feet,  and  grasped  Blue's 
hand  before  he  had  time  to  answer. 

"It's  glad  I  be  f'r  ye,  glad  as  if  ye  was  me 
own  b'y!" 

"Then  it's  really  true?"  he  queried. 

"My,  yes,  true  as  sundown!"  giggled  Mrs. 
Homan.  "I  don't  wonder  yer  can't  b'lieve  it. 
It 's  just  like  things  happen  in  books.  '  Land ! ' 
I  says,  the  minute  I  heard  of  it,  '  won't  that 
be  s'lendid  for  the  Stickneys!  To  think  of 
havin'  a  Rockefeller  right  here  in  The  Flat- 
iron!'" 

Blue  gave  a  bit  of  a  chuckle,  and  went  over 
to  Doodles. 

"Feelin'  all  right,  old  man?" 

241 


DOODLES 

A  smiling,  comprehensive  nod  contented 
him,  and  throwing  a  leg  across  the  corner  of 
the  table  he  sat  and  answered  Mrs.  Homan's 
questions,  while  he  swept  occasional  glances 
round  the  room,  glances  which  included  the 
clock,  and  wished  that  the  hour  would  hurry 
his  curious  visitor  home. 

It  did  at  last,  and  Granny  also ;  but  he  and 
Doodles  had  scarcely  more  than  begun  to 
exchange  wonderings  about  what  was  fore- 
most in  their  minds  when  Mrs.  Homan  ran  up 
the  stairs  with  a  little  apple  pie. 

"I  says  when  I  was  makin'  it,  I  did  n'  know 
what  in  th'  world  I  sh'd  do  with  't,  for  Jud 
ain't  on  speakin'  terms  'ith  apple  pie,  an' 
they's  on'y  me  'n  pa  to  'nihilate  'em.  But 
there  was  th'  crust,  so  I  flung  it  together,  'n' 
when  I  see  't  just  now  I  says,  'That's  who  I 
made  it  for  —  th'  Stickneys!  They's  'nough 
f'r  their  supper,  'n'  't'll  jibe  right  in  'ith  th' 
fun.  I'll  trot  it  straight  up  to  'em.'  No,  land, 
don't  oust  it  off  th'  plate  now!  I  got  'nough 
dishes.  Bye-bye  again!" 

"Is  n't  that  lovely  of  her!"  smiled  Doodles, 
as  his  brother,  with  a  guilty  pang,  set  the  pie 
on  the  table. 

242 


SURPRISING  NEWS 

"Guess  she  wouldn't  have  brought  it  if 
she'd  known  how  I'd  been  achin'  to  have  her 
get  up  and  go,"  was  the  soft-toned  answer. 

"Yes,"  responded  Doodles  with  an  under- 
standing sigh,  "she  does  generally  stay  a 
good  while.  But  I  s'pose  she  means  all  right, 
and  if  folks'  hearts  are  good  it  does  n't  make 
so  much  difference  about  the>.rest  of  'em,  does 
it?" 

Blue  started  to'  make  a  laughing  reply, 
when  the  mother's  step  was  heard  on  the 
stairs,  and  he  ran  to  open  the  door  for  her. 

"Well!"  she  began. 

"Heard  about  it?"  he  grinned. 

"It's  on  the  bulletin  board,  but  I  could  n't 
believe  it!" 

"We  nabbed  'em  all  right!"  Blue  nodded 
emphatically.  "I  do'  know  anything  'bout 
the  reward  'cept  what  I  hear." 

"The  bulletin  says  it's — "  she  hesitated  to 
speak  the  figures  which  yet  seemed  so  unwar- 
rantably linked  with  her  boy's  name. 

"Three  thousand  dollars,"  finished  Blue 
glibly.  It  had  been  in  his  ears  too  much  that 
afternoon  for  him  to  be  shy  in  voicing  it  him- 
self. "They  say  ther"s  been  lots  about  it  in 
243 


DOODLES 

the  papers,  but  I  never  see  the  papers  —  that 
is,  read  'em.  My,  but  I  wish  we  could  have 
it!" 

"Wish!  —  oh!"  The  mother's  voice  quiv- 
ered as  she  dropped  into  the  rocker  and  put 
her  hands  to  her  face. 

"For  goodness'  sake,  don't  cry!  We 
have  n't  got  it  yet!"  Blue  walked  off  towards 
the  table,  whistling  softly.  "Oh,  say!"  he 
burst  out,  "Mrs.  Homan' brought  you  this." 
He  held  up  the  pie. 

"How  good  everybody  is!"  Mrs.  Stickney 
wiped  her  eyes,  and  pulled  off  her  gloves. 
"Come  and  sit  down,  Blue,  and  tell  me  all 
about  it !  What  made  you  think  they  were  in 
the  triangle?" 

"I  didn't;  'twas  Doodles.  He  wondered  if 
they  could  be  there,  and  I  scouted  the  idea  — 
did  n't  I,  old  feller?  Oh,  if  anything  comes, 
it's  for  Doodles,  sure!" 

Of  course,  the  small  boy  protested;  but 
Blue  only  laughed,  while  he  proceeded  with 
his  account  of  the  afternoon's  excitement. 

For  a  full  half  hour  the  apple  pie  waited. 
Then  Doodles  suggested  supper.  Pies  did  not 
occur  every  day  on  the  Stickney  table. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE   COMFORTING   OF   EUDORA   FLEMING 

"  You  can't  guess  where  I've  been  to-day." 
Tillie  Shook  began,  unfolding  the  towel  that 
held  her  knitting,  and  arranging  the  pile  of 
wool  in  her  lap. 

"Oh,  what  a  pretty  pink!"  cried  Doodles, 
wheeling  himself  nearer. 

"I  think  so,"  she  smiled,  carefully  picking 
up  a  dropped  stitch.  "It's  my  mother's 
Christmas  present.  I  knew  if  I  did  n't  start  it 
early  't  would  n't  be  done.  I  thought  you 
would  n't  mind  my  bringing  it  along  this  eve- 
ning," she  apologized.  "I  can  talk  better 
when  I'm  knitting,  except  when  I  have  to 
count,  and  that  ain't  often.  Mother's  been 
wanting  a  shawl  for  ever  so  long  —  it  7s  so  cold 
in  the  country.  'T  don't  look  much  yet." 
She  held  up  the  narrow  strip.  "The  stitch  is 
pretty,"  showing  the  intricate  pattern. 

"But  this  ain't  my  news,"  she  laughed; 
"you  didn't  guess  where  I've  been!  Sakes! 
245 


DOODLES 

you  never  would,  so  I  '11  have  to  tell."  — 
She  paused  to  emphasize  her  words.  —  "Out 
to  the  Flemings' ! " 

"Not  Daphne  Fleming's?"  Blue  caught  at 
the  name  excitedly. 

"Yes!  I  knew  you'd  want  to  hear  about  it ; 
that's  why  I  came  up  so  early.  I  couldn't 
hardly  wait  to  eat  my  supper. 

"You  see,  Miss  Wallace  —  she's  head  fitter 
—  sometimes  she  goes  out  to  fit  a  special 
customer,  and  Miss  Fleming  's  special.  Now 
she's  got  nervous  prostration,  and  couldn't 
come  to  be  fitted.  They  say  —  that  is,  Louise 
Petrie  does  —  it 's  a  love  affair.  I  don't  know 
whether  her  father  would  n't  let  her  marry 
him,  or  what;  but,  anyway,  he's  abroad  some- 
where, writing  music  and  playing  on  the 
piano,  and  all  that,  and  she's  just  gone  to 
pieces.  Louise  says  she's  a  musician,  too,  and 
they  used  to  play  and  sing  together  at  lots 
of  parties  and  charity  entertainments  and 
church  affairs,  and  so  they  got  awfully  well 
acquainted.  Too  bad!  she's  a  lovely  girl.  She 
had  to  lie  down  between  gowns  —  she  could 
n't  have  'em  all  fitted  right  along.  Oh,  I 
wish  you  could  see  'em!  —  such  beautiful 

246 


THE   COMFORTING  OF  EUDORA 

colors!  I  got  a  little  snip  of  the  blue  silk  one 
—  why,  I  thought  I  put  it  under  this  wool! 
Oh,  here  't  is!  Ain't  that  sweet?  But  you 
can't  imagine  how  it  looks  on.  That  pale  blue, 
all  embroidered  in  silver,  is  just  the  thing  for 
her — makes  her  seem  a  regular  princess !  She 
is  light,  with  almost  golden  hair,  and  such 
darling  blue  eyes!  They  say  Daphne  was  just 
so  before  those  rascals  stained  her  skin.  It 
has  n't  come  off  yet.  And  they  dyed  her  hair, 
too.  I  don't  see  how  you  ever  knew  her  by 
that  picture.  She  was  n't  round  much  — 
bobbed  in  once  or  twice.  Her  mother  won't 
hardly  let  her  go  out  of  her  sight  since  she's 
got  her  back.  They  all  worship  her! 

"It's  so  funny!  I'd  been  planning  to  walk 
over  past  there  —  some  Sunday  afternoon  I 
thought — ever  since  you  found  her;  but  I 
never  had.  And  to  think  I  should  go  right 
inside  and  see  it  all,  and  see  them!  I  can't 
hardly  believe  it!  The  house  is  just  lovely, 
kind  o'  like  a  palace,  I  guess.  I  said  to  myself 
as  I  was  going  up  those  stairs,  I  did  n't  see 
how  heaven  could  be  any  nicer  —  and  I  don't! 
But  I  s'pose  it  will  —  sakes!  don't  you  get  to 
wondering,  sometimes,  how  it  will  look?  Well, 
247 


DOODLES 

I  ain't  hankering  to  find  out.  It 's  pretty  good 
here  when  you  have  work,  and  things  come 
along  as  they  have  to-day.  Oh,  I  am  so  glad 
Miss  Wallace  took  me!  She  has  to  have  some- 
body, you  know,  to  baste  and  such.  Gen' ally 
she  takes  Marie  Etienne,  but  Marie  's  sick  — 
lucky  for  me!  That  sounds  nice,  don't  it?  Of 
course,  I  do'  want  anybody  sick;  but  I  do 
love  to  go  into  pretty  houses!  I  never  did 
much." 

Tillie  Shook  made  good  her  statement  that 
she  could  talk  while  she  was  knitting,  for  her 
tongue  ran  nunbly  from  the  Flemings  round 
among  other  patrons  of  Miss  Meagher's;  but 
with  rare  delicacy  of  selection  not  once  did  it 
touch  a  bit  of  scandal  or  a  disagreeable  item. 
When  the  clock  reached  nine,  she  promptly 
rolled  up  her  work. 

"No  late  hours  for  me,"  she  laughed,  de- 
clining Blue's  appeal  to  stay  longer.  "I  do' 
want  to  feel  sleepy  to-morrow  morning  when 
it's  breakfast  time,  do  you,  little  man?"  She 
laid  her  hand  caressingly  on  Doodles's  head. 
"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you  got  all  that  money!" 
she  went  on,  with  a  comprehensive  glance 
towards  the  others.  "I  wanted  to  come  right 

248 


THE  COMFORTING  OF  EUDORA 

up  and  tell  you  so;  but,  sakes!  I've  had  to 
work  'most  every  evening  since,  and  this  is 
the  first  chance  I've  caught.  I  see  you've  got 
a  new  stove,  and  that  looks  as  if  you  were 
going  to  stay  on.  I  was  so  'fraid  you  would  n't. 
I  don't  see  much  of  you,  but  I  know  you  're  up 
here,  and  it's  a  comfort." 

"We  have  decided  not  to  move  at  present," 
Mrs.  Stickney  told  her.  "Winter  in  The 
Flatiron  is  better  than  summer." 

"Yes,  'tis,"  Miss  Tillie  agreed,  "and  I 
think  you  are  sensible  not  to  hustle  to  spend 
your  money  all  at  once.  Why,  one  woman 
said  to  me,  'Mrs.  Stickney  won't  have  to  do 
another  stitch  of  work  as  long  as  she  lives, 
with  that  thirty  hundred  dollars  of  theirs!'  I 
did  n't  contradict  her,  but  I  kind  o'  guessed 
you  knew  better.  I've  noticed  money  melts 
away  pretty  fast,  if  you  don't  keep  putting 
something  on  top  of  the  pile." 

In  two  days  came  Saturday,  and  Doodles 
asked  Blue  how  far  it  was  out  to  the  Flem- 
ings'. 

"Oh!  I  do'  know,  maybe  a  couple  o'  miles. 
Thinkin'  of  making  'em  a  call?  "  Blue's  merry 
eyes  met  the  serious  ones  of  Doodles. 
249 


DOODLES 

The  small  boy  shook  his  head  with  a  gravity 
that  made  the  brother  feel  his  little  joke  to  be 
ill-timed. 

"I  am  very  sorry  for  Miss  Fleming," 
Doodles  said,  "and  I  've  been  wondering  what 
I  could  do  to  comfort  her." 

"You?"  broke  out  Blue,  scenting  difficul- 
ties ahead. 

"Yes,  and  I  think  the  best  way  is  to  let 
Caruso  do  it.  If  he'd  sing  for  her  as  he  did  for 
me  this  morning,  while  you  were  gone,  I 
am  sure  she  would  feel  happier.  And  then  it 
would  be  very  nice  for  you  to  go  there  and  see 
the  beautiful  house,"  he  went  on  artlessly. 
"You'd  like  that,  would  n't  you?" 

Blue  shivered  inside.  "Oh,  I  don't  believe 
he'd  sing!"  he  cried  irrelevantly. 

"I  think  he  will,  for  I've  told  him  all  about 
it,  and  I'm  sure  he  understands." 

"Well,  sometime,  maybe,"  yielded  Blue. 

"Won't  this  afternoon  be  a  good  time?" 
asked  Doodles  wistfully. 

"Cracky!"  ejaculated  the  elder  boy  in  dis- 
may. 

Doodles  laughed.  "Didn't  you  s'pose  I 
meant  to-day?" 

250 


THE  COMFORTING  OF  EUDORA 

"No,  I  did  n't,"  was  the  dry  answer. 

"But  you'd  like  to  go,  wouldn't  you?" 
persisted  the  other. 

Blue  groaned  silently.  "What  you  want 
me  to  do?"  he  parried. 

Doodles  bent  forward  in  his  eagerness. 
"Why,  just  take  Caruso,  and  let  him  sing  for 
Miss  Fleming  —  that 's  all ! " 

All!  Blue  hunted  desperately  for  a  solid 
objection. 

"Why,  kiddie,"  he  began  in  haste,  "don't 
you  worry  about  her!  She's  rich,  rich  as 
Ccesar — "  he  broke  off  abruptly  at  sight  of 
his  brother's  hurt  face.  "You  know,"  he 
started  again  gently,  "she  could  have  a 
dozen  birds  to  sing  for  her  if  she  wanted 
'em." 

"Yes,  but  she  could  n't  have  Caruso  unless 
I  sent  him!"  chuckled  the  small  boy.  "And, 
besides,"  he  went  on  gravely,  "I  want  to  do 
something  for  God,  to  show  Him  I  appreciate 
the  stove  and  the  money  He  sent.  I  think  He 
would  like  me  to  comfort  Miss  Fleming,  don't 
you?" 

Poor  Blue!  he  nestled  uneasily  in  the  old 
rocker,  and  muttered,  "I  guess  so." 
251 


DOODLES 

Then,  suddenly,  a  fresh  argument  came  in 
sight.  It  looked  plausible. 

"I  don't  see  the  sense  of  her  bein'  sick 
anyway,  with  all  she's  got,  —  a  dandy  house 
to  live  in,  and  new  clothes,  and  an  automobile, 
and  nothin'  to  do,  and  —  everything!  I  guess 
if  all  that  can't  cure  her,  you  can't!" 

But  Doodles  smiled,  undaunted. 

" Caruso  is  better  than  anything  she  has! 
She  can't  help  loving  Caruso!" 

"Well,—"  Blue  got  up.  If  he  must,  the 
sooner  it  was  over  with,  the  better.  He  disap- 
peared in  the  bedroom,  to  make  ready  for  the 
dreaded  errand. 

Doodles  listened  with  a  smile  that  soon  lost 
itself  in  anxious  lines.  Blue  was  making  a 
good  deal  of  noise  —  a  good  deal  even  for  him. 

"Oh,  wait  a  minute!"  cried  the  small 
brother,  as  Blue  dashed  out  and  caught  up  the 
cage  without  a  word. 

He  halted. 

"You  —  want  to  go,  don't  you?" 

"Sure!"  was  the  grinning  answer.  "As  if  I 
did  n't  always  enjoy  callin'  on  young  ladies!" 

There  were  merry  good-byes,  yet  after  the 
footsteps  on  the  stairs  were  lost  in  other 
252 


THE  COMFORTING  OF  EUDORA 

sounds,  Doodles  wondered  if  Blue  had  really 
disliked  to  go. 

"I'd  love  it,"  he  whispered  softly  — "if  I 
only  could! "  He  closed  his  eyes,  but  the  tears 
pressed  through.  "O  God,"  he  murmured, 
"do  let  me  walk  sometime  —  do!  —  do! 
But  if  I  can't  —  ever,"  he  added  tremulously, 
"oh,  help  me  to  bear  it  so  nobody  will  guess 
how  much  I  care!" 

Caruso  found  it  hard  to  keep  on  his  perch, 
Blue  strode  along  at  so  swift  a  pace.  Finally 
the  boy  discovered  how  it  was  with  the  little 
singer,  and  he  slackened  his  steps. 

A  dozen  tunes  during  that  long  walk  he 
told  himself  he  was  a  fool  for  going.  Once  he 
actually  started  back;  but  the  remembrance 
of  his  brother's  face,  beautiful,  eager,  appeal- 
ing, rose  before  him  and  seemed  to  block  his 
way.  Resolutely  he  turned  again  and  went 
forward.  If  they  would  not  let  him  in,  why, 
he  should  then  be  able  to  meet  Doodles  with 
clear  eyes,  —  he  would  have  done  all  that  he 
could. 

He  kept  on  with  more  heart.  Why  should 
he  be  afraid?  Probably  "that  Fleming  girl" 
had  never  in  all  her  life  heard  so  good  a  singer 

253 


DOODLES 

as  Caruso,  and  maybe,  just  maybe,  the  songs 
would  do  her  good,  as  Doodles  hoped. 

Near  the  house  he  hesitated.  Should  he  go 
to  the  front  door,  or  to  the  side,  or  should  he 
go  round  to  the  back?  He  boldly  decided  on 
the  front.  A  maid  answered  his  ring. 

"I  should  like  to  see  Miss  Fleming,"  he  said 
politely. 

"She  can  see  no  one  to-day." 

The  door  was  beginning  to  close. 

"Oh,  well,  then  Miss  Daphne!"  cried  Blue 
in  desperate  haste. 

"Miss  Daphne  is  out." 

The  great  door  came  together  promptly, 
with  a  soft  little  thud. 

So  it  was  over  —  all  need  of  worrying  about 
what  he  should  say  to  the  rich  girl  who  looked 
like  a  princess!  —  all  Doodles's  bright  antici- 
pations! At  the  moment  Blue  felt  equal  to  an 
interview  with  anybody  —  anybody  but  the 
small  boy  waiting  happily  in  the  wheel  chair 
—  for  this!  How  could  he  bear  to  see  the  light 
fade  out  of  the  fair  little  face! 

"Huh,"  he  muttered,  "she'd  'a'  let  me  in 
fast  enough  if  I'd  been  dressed  up  stylish!   I 
know  'em!   They're  all  alike!" 
254 


THE   COMFORTING  OF  EUDORA 

With  a  heavy  sigh  he  went  slowly  down  the 
stone  steps. 

A  soft  south  breeze  ruffled  the  bird's  feath- 
ers, and  he  let  go  a  gay  trill. 

"Shut  up!"  snapped  the  boy.  " Don't  give 
'em  a  note!  They  ain't  worth  it!" 

He  took  the  road  towards  home  with  long 
strides. 

Up  the  hill  rolled  an  open  motor  car.  A 
woman  and  a  little  girl  were  on  the  back  seat. 
As  they  whirled  by,  Blue  recognized  Daphne 
Fleming;  but  he  made  no  sign. 

"Oh,  there  is  Blue  Stickney!"  exclaimed 
the  child  in  sudden  excitement.  "And  he  has 
the  sweet  bird!"  She  rose  to  look  back. 
"Simon,  Simon!  stop!  quick!" 

But  by  the  time  the  order  had  been  obeyed 
the  boy  was  far  behind. 

"We  will  go  back!"  was  the  authoritative 
decision,  and  accordingly,  a  moment  after, 
Blue  was  surprised  to  see  the  big  car  draw  up 
to  the  sidewalk  just  ahead. 

He  lifted  his  cap  in  response  to  Daphne's 
smile. 

"How  do  you  do?"  asked  the  little  one. 
"And  how  is  the  beautiful  Caruso?  I  wish 

255 


DOODLES 

you  would  go  home  with  me,  and  let  him  sing 
for  my  mother  and  sister.  Will  you?" 

" That's  what  I  came  for,"  Blue  admitted. 
"I  thought  —  that  is,  Doodles  thought  — 
p'rhaps  she'd  like  to  hear  him;  but  the  girl 
said  she  could  n't  see  anybody,  and  you 
were  out,  and  so — I  did  n't  stay,"  he  ended 
lamely. 

"Then  you  will  come?"  She  opened  the 
door. 

For  an  instant  he  hesitated. 

"He  can  sit  with  Simon,"  suggested  the 
attendant. 

"There  is  plenty  of  room  here,"  asserted 
Daphne,  moving  aside  with  a  cordial  smile. 

The  boy  stepped  lightly  in,  and  Simon 
reached  back  and  shut  the  door. 

Presently  the  ride  was  at  an  end,  and  Blue 
was  following  his  young  hostess  into  the  wide 
hall,  and  passing  the  maid  with  head  held 
high.  Then  he  was  seated  in  a  small,  luxuri- 
ous room  where  parti-colored  shadows  played 
over  the  floor.  The  flickering  lights  seemed 
to  inspire  Caruso  to  a  song,  for  he  broke  the 
stillness  with  a  few  startling  notes.  The  boy 
hushed  him  at  once,  whereupon  he  retreated 

256 


THE   COMFORTING   OF  EUDORA 

to  the  farther  end  of  his  perch,  mopish  as  a 
reproved  child. 

Light  feet  came  running  along  the  hall,  and 
Daphne  appeared. 

"Will  you  come  upstairs?  Mother  is  not 
at  home,  but  Eudora  would  like  to  hear  the 
bird.  Was  n't  he  singing  a  minute  ago?" 

"Yes,"  nodded  Blue.  "I  shut  him  up  as 
quick  as  I  could,"  he  added  apologetically. 

"Why  did  you?"  was  the  surprised  query. 

The  boy  only  gave  a  soft  laugh. 

The  room  into  which  Blue  was  ushered 
the  little  dressmaker  might  well  have  called 
"heavenly";  but  he  did  not  bestow  upon  it 
a  second  glance.  The  "princess"  sister  held 
his  eyes  —  and  his  heart. 

She  was  all  and  more,  far  more  than  Tillie 
Shook  had  pictured  her,  and  he  found  himself 
wondering  how  "any  feller  could  go  off  to  Eu- 
rope" and  leave  so  beautiful  a  girl  languish- 
ing for  his  love. 

"Will  he  sing  best  in  the  sunshine?" 
Daphne's  question  brought  Blue  back  to  the 
errand  in  hand. 

"I  do'  know.    He  don't  sing  so  much  now 
as  he  did.  —  Caruso!" 
257 


DOODLES 

The  boy  whistled  softly  the  opening  strain 
of  "Annie  Laurie,"  but  the  bird  continued  to 
preen  a  ruffled  feather  or  two.  The  air  ended, 
yet  Caruso  was  still  silent. 

"It  takes  my  brother  to  set  him  going," 
Blue  explained,  somewhat  nettled  at  the  bird's 
indifference. 

Livelier  tunes  were  tried,  and  then,  just  as 
the  boy  was  beginning  to  wonder  if,  after  all, 
Caruso  were  going  to  disappoint  them,  he 
burst  into  a  torrent  of  song,  ending,  as  often, 
with  the  beloved  "Annie  Laurie." 

Blue  was  so  interested  in  the  way  the 
mocker  was  "showing  off,"  that  he  did  not 
at  first  notice  the  very  evident  excitement 
of  Miss  Fleming.  But  as  soon  as  the  sing- 
ing ceased,  she  darted  across  to  the  cage  with 
a  murmured  word  which  the  boy  did  not 
catch.  Then  she  turned  to  him,  questioning 
almost  sharply:  — 

"Where  did  you  get  this  bird?" 

"I  bought  him  of  a  girl  who  bid  him  off  at 
an  auction." 

"The  very  one!"  she  cried  in  soft,  joyful 
tones.  "I  know!  I  know!"  bending  closer  to 
scrutinize  the  singer. 

258 


THE   COMFORTING 'OF  EUDORA 

"What  is  it,  Eudora?"  Daphne  ran  over 
to  her  sister. 

The  girl  hesitated,  while  a  pretty  color 
flushed  her  cheeks. 

"  I  think,"  she  began,  "it  must  be  the  mock- 
er that  —  that  a  friend  of  mine  lost  a  year  — 
no,  a  year  and  a  half  ago."  She  turned  to 
the  boy  whose  heart  had  suddenly  gone  sick. 
"How  long  have  you  had  him?" 

"About  a  year,"  was  the  automatic  an- 
swer. 

She  nodded  musingly. 

"I  think  there  is  no  do,ubt  of  it,"  she  went 
on.  "Mr.  Selden  used  to  say  that  he  should 
know  Jacky  anywhere  by  the  nick  in  his  bill. 
And  he  sang  'Annie  Laurie'  just  as  this  bird 
does.  There!  perhaps  he  will  remember  his 
name —  Jacky!  Jacky!"  she  coaxed. 

Caruso  cocked  his  pretty  head,  and  re- 
turned a  soft,  sweet  whistle. 

"It  is  Jacky!"  she  exclaimed  delightedly, 
"and  he  has  not  forgotten!" 

"Mr.  Selden?"  questioned  Daphne.  "The 
one  that  used  to  sing  and  play  when  he  came 
to  see  — " 

"Yes,  yes!"  her  sister  hurriedly  answered, 

259 


DOODLES 

adding  something  in  a  half  whisper,  the  most 
of  which  Blue  did  not  hear. 

The  child  at  once  left  the  room,  though 
with  reluctance  in  her  face. 

The  boy  wondered  why  she  had  been  sent 
away. 

Miss  Fleming  came  and  took  a  chair  near. 
Her  face  was  very  white,  but  red  spots  burned 
on  her  cheeks.  Her  dark  blue  eyes  shone 
softly. 

"My  friend,  Mr.  Selden,  is  abroad,"  she 
said  in  a  low  voice;  "but  he  ought  to  know 
about  Jacky  at  once.  He  will  be  glad  —  oh, 
so  glad!  —  that  he  is  safe.  He  loves  Jacky!" 

"But  it's  my  brother's  bird,"  Blue  broke 
out  in  blunt  defiance.  "It  would  kill  Doodles 
to  give  up  Caruso!" 

"Oh,  I  did  not  mean  that!  No,  no!  Mr. 
Selden  never  would  take  him  from  your 
brother.  He  is  the  best  man  in  the  world — and 
the  most  sympathetic.  But  it  would  please 
him  greatly  to  know  that  his  pet  is  in  kind 
hands." 

For  a  moment  she  was  silent,  while  the  red 
in  her  cheeks  stole  up  to  her  fluffy  yellow  hair. 

"I  wonder,"  she  resumed,  "if  you  would 

260 


"IT  WOULD  KILL  DOODLES  TO  GIVE  UP  CARUSO' 


THE   COMFORTING   OF  EUDORA 

be  willing  to  write  and  tell  him  about  it.  I  will 
give  you  his  address  and  paper  and  stamps 
and  all,  if  you  will  be  so  good,"  she  added 
eagerly. 

"Why,  I  suppose  I  can,"  answered  Blue, 
somewhat  abashed  by  the  unexpected  re- 
quest; "but  I  don't  write  very  well - 

"That  makes  no  difference  whatever!  He 
will  not  care  how  the  letter  is  written.  He  is 
not  critical." 

"It  seems  as  if  you  would  be  the  best  one 
to  do  it,"  Blue  boldly  suggested. 

"Oh,  no!"  with  a  deepening  blush.  "You 
will  write,"  she  nodded  coaxingly. 

The  boy  gave  a  rather  backward  assent. 
He  did  not  feel  sure  that  Mr.  Selden  would 
not  want  his  bird  again,  and  what  could  he 
say  to  ward  off  such  a  catastrophe?  Before 
he  had  recovered  from  the  realization  that 
he  had  actually  agreed  to  write  the  letter,  a 
maid  entered  with  a  tray,  and  Daphne  came 
dancing  after. 

"I  stayed  to  see  Johanna  fill  the  tarts," 
she  chuckled.  "They  are  red  raspberry  jam 
ones!  You  will  like  them! "  she  told  Blue, over 
her  shoulder. 

261 


DOODLES 

That  was  a  luncheon  like  none  the  boy  had 
ever  seen:  tiny  buttered  rolls;  slips  of  cold 
chicken;  raspberry  tarts;  and  coffee  in  beau- 
tiful china  cups,  with  whipped  cream  floating 
on  top. 

"What  may  Caruso  eat?"  asked  Daphne, 
pausing  for  Blue's  answer  before  offering  the 
bird  any  of  the  dainties. 

"  Just  a  mite  of  roll,"  he  said. 

"No,  a  tart!"  she  begged. 

The  lad  shook  his  head  smilingly. 

"You  might  run  and  fetch  a  lettuce  leaf," 
suggested  her  sister.  "That  will  not  hurt  him." 

The  child  was  off  and  back  again  hi  a  trice, 
and  they  all  laughed  to  see  the  bird  catch  bit 
after  bit  from  her  fingers.  Even  the  tarts 
had  no  further  interest  for  Daphne  until  the 
last  piece  of  green  was  in  Caruso's  bill. 

When  Blue  reached  home  there  was  much 
to  tell,  so  much,  indeed,  that  the  writing  of 
the  message  to  Mr.  Selden  was  put  off  till 
evening  and  Doodles  was  in  bed.  Mrs.  Stick- 
ney  was  the  boy's  ready  reference  on  spelling; 
but  the  rest  of  the  letter,  except  for  a  few 
periods  and  commas,  was  his  own,  and  it  cost 
him  two  hours  of  hard  work.  He  copied  and 
262 


THE   COMFORTING  OF  EUDORA 

recopied,  until  the  supply  of  paper  that  Miss 
Fleming  had  given  him  came  to  an  end,  and 
he  was  obliged  to  use  a  sheet  from  his  mother's 
meager  stock,  which,  of  course,  did  not  match 
his  dainty  envelope.  So  the  question  arose 
whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  wait  until 
Monday,  when  he  could  buy  what  was  needed. 
But  Blue  repeated  what  Miss  Fleming  had 
said  about  the  importance  of  Mr.  Selden's 
hearing  of  the  matter  at  once,  and  it  was 
finally  decided  that  so  small  a  thing  as  the 
dissimilarity  of  paper  and  envelope  would  not 
be  regarded  by  a  man  who  was  "not  critical," 
and,  at  last,  the  boy  went  to  bed  with  the 
consciousness  that  he  had  done  his  best. 

Ten  days  later,  when  Morton  Selden  read 
the  superscription  in  the  stiff,  untrained  hand, 
there  was  puzzlement  in  his  eyes;  but  the  post- 
mark of  his  home  town  hastened  his  hand, 
and  he  cut  open  the  letter.  He  read  it  care- 
fully, stopping  now  and  then  to  reread  a 
phrase  before  going  on. 

DEAR  ME.  SELDEN:  — 

I  bought  a  mocking-bird  a  year  ago  for 
twenty-five  cents,  because  a  girl  who  had  bid 
263 


DOODLES 

it  off  at  an  auction  was  scaring  it  to  death  and 
did  n't  want  it.  Now  Miss  Eudora  Fleming 
says  it  is  your  bird.  I  bought  it  for  my 
brother  who  can't  walk.  He  loves  the  bird 
something  fierce.  It  would  sure  kill  Doodles 
to  have  to  let  it  go.  Miss  Fleming  says  you 
will  not  take  it  away  from  him,  because  she 
says  you  are  the  best  man  in  the  world.  So 
I  hope  you  won't.  I  took  Caruso  out  to  her 
house  this  afternoon  for  Doodles,  because  he 
thought  Caruso  would  comfort  her.  He  sings 
fine.  She  has  got  nervous  prostration,  though 
she  does  not  look  sick.  She  is  the  prettiest 
girl  I  ever  saw.  I  tried  to  have  her  write 
to  you,  for  she  said  Caruso  was  sure  your 
Jacky,  and  you  ought  to  know  right  away. 
But  she  would  n't,  and  I  had  to.  I  hope  you 
will  excuse  my  bad  writing.  She  could  do  it 
a  great  deal  better,  but  she  said,  oh,  no,  she 
could  n't,  and  made  me  promise  I  would.  She 
was  glad  as  if  it  was  her  bird,  and  said  you 
loved  Jacky  and  would  be  so  glad  to  know  he 
was  safe.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  her 
when  she  was  talking  about  it,  she  did  look 
something  beautiful.  Her  eyes  shone  so  it 
most  took  my  breath  away.  I  guess  she's  a 
264 


THE   COMFORTING   OF  EUDORA 

princess  all  right,  just  as  Tillie  Shook  says 
she  looks  like.  She  said  she  knew  you 
would  n't  take  it  from  Doodles,  because  you 
are  so  sympathetic.  Please  let  him  keep 
it. 

Hoping  you  are  well,  I  am 

Yours  very  truly, 

BLUE  STICKNEY. 

In  less  than  a  fortnight  Blue  received  the 
following :  — 

MY   DEAR   FRIEND :  - 

Your  letter  brought  me  more  pleasure  than 
had  come  to  me  since  I  left  America.  I  con- 
gratulate you  on  knowing  how  to  interest  a 
correspondent. 

As  for  Caruso  —  which  name,  by  the  way, 
is  a  vast  improvement  on  Jacky  —  I  am 
mighty  glad  that  he  has  fallen  into  such  kind 
hands,  and  you  can  assure  your  brother,  from 
me,  that  he  may  keep  the  little  fellow  as  long 
as  he  wants  him,  provided  he  will  let  me  come 
to  see  him  once  in  a  while  when  I  am  at 
home  again. 

This  mail  will  carry  a  letter  to  Miss  Fleming 

265 


DOODLES 

also,  still  you  may  give  her  my  thanks  and  my 
regards  when  you  see  her. 

With  best  wishes  for  you  and  Doodles  and 
Caruso, 

Most  cordially  yours, 

MORTON  K.  SELDEN. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

"THE  MIRACLE  VOICE" 

THE  vision  in  the  doorway  arrested  the 
word  of  welcome  on  Doodles's  lips.  As  soon 
as  he  could  command  his  tongue  he  smiled 
a  cordial  "How  do  you  do?  Will  you  walk 
in?" 

And  the  vision  in  brown  cloth  and  creamy 
lace  and  fluffy  feathers  came  straight  across 
the  room  and  took  one  of  his  hands  between 
her  soft  gloves,  saying,  in  the  sweetest  of 
voices,  "My  dear  Doodles!  Do  you  know 
me?" 

"I  think  you  must  be  Miss  Fleming,"  the 
boy  answered,,  "because-  "  he  hesitated. 

"Because  Daphne  and  I  look  alike?"  she 
questioned. 

Doodles  shook  his  head.  "Because  you  are 
so  beautiful,"  he  replied  bravely. 

The  girl  laughed  her  remonstrance,  yet  she 
did  not  appear  to  be  displeased,  and  Doodles 
smiled  shyly  up  at  her. 
267 


DOODLES 

"I  have  come  to  thank  you  for  sending  your 
bird  to  me,"  she  began. 

"Oh!  did  Caruso  comfort  you?"  cried 
Doodles. 

Her  delicate  face  grew  pinker  —  and  even 
prettier,  the  boy  thought. 

"I  enjoyed  his  singing  very  much,"  she 
said.  "Indeed,  his  coming  has  led  to  such 
pleasant  things,  life  seems  to  have  been  made 
all  over  for  me." 

"I  am  just  as  glad,  glad!"  he  rejoiced. 
"Caruso  is  a  dear  comforter — why,  he  com- 
forts me  all  the  time!" 

The  girl's  eyes  suddenly  grew  soft  and  glis- 
tening, and  she  gave  no  response. 

Caruso,  with  his  usual  courtesy,  flung  a 
little  carol  into  the  pause,  and  that  brought 
about  the  visitor's  asking  Doodles  to  sing 
for  her. 

The  child's  selection  chanced  to  be  Nevin's 
"Little  Boy  Blue,"  which  Leona  Montgom- 
ery had  taught  him  one  rainy  holiday.  As 
always,  he  threw  his  heart  into  the  simple 
words,  and  they  became  words  of  life.  At  the 
end  his  listener  surprised  him  by  taking  both 
his  hands  in  hers. 

268 


"THE  MIRACLE  VOICE" 

"Doodles  dear,  has  anybody  ever  told  you 
that  you  have  a  wonderful  voice?" 

"Nobody  but  a  lady  who  lived  downstairs," 
he  replied  modestly.  "  I  sang  to  her  before  she 
died.  She  said  I  ought  to  take  lessons." 

"You  shall,"  declared  Miss  Fleming.  "And 
my  teacher  in  New  York  must  certainly  hear 
you  sing.  I  will  try  to  manage  it." 

After  another  song  the  visitor  said  good- 
bye, leaving  a  message  for  Mrs.  Stickney, 
which  when  it  was  given  her  threw  the  little 
woman  into  a  panic. 

"Coming  to  see  me?"  she  exclaimed.  "For 
what?  I  shan't  know  a  thing  to  say  to  her! 
I  wish  folks  would  n't  —  such  folks! " 

But  Eudora  Fleming  always  kept  her  word, 
and  her  next  call  was  in  the  evening,  when  the 
mother  was  apt  to  be  at  home. 

At  first  Mrs.  Stickney  was  not  quite  at  ease 
and  inclined  to  be  silent;  but  the  girl's  errand 
was  of  such  an  exciting  nature  that  the  em- 
barrassed tongue  was  soon  set  at  liberty,  and 
talk  was  free. 

For  Doodles  to  be  invited  to  go  to  New 
York  with  Miss  Fleming  and  her  sister;  to 
think  of  his  singing  before  the  celebrated 

269 


DOODLES 

Italian  who  had  taught  Miss  Fleming  herself; 
to  have  it  suggested  that  he  even  be  examined 
by  the  great  surgeon  whose  fees  sometimes 
mounted  into  the  thousands,  —  all  this  was 
enough  to  bring  quick  self-forgetfulness  to  the 
mother.  It  was  late  that  night  before  the  lit- 
tle apartment  at  the  top  of  The  Flatiron  was 
dark  and  still. 

Within  four  days  Doodles  started  for  the 
big  city  of  which  he  had  heard  so  much  and 
which  he  longed  to  see.  He  was  surprised  and 
delighted  to  find  that  the  trip  was  to  be  made 
in  a  limousine  instead  of  by  train,  and  when 
the  mother  saw  how  all  had  been  arranged  for 
his  comfort  she  let  him  go  without  a  fear.  The 
little  lad's  long  rides  in  his  wheel  chair  had 
so  increased  his  strength  that  he  had  no  mis- 
givings at  thought  of  the  many  miles  to  be 
traveled,  especially  when  the  cushions  were 
piled  around  him  until  he  felt  never  a  jolt,  and 
an  extra  seat  was  waiting,  where  he  could  lie 
down  for  a  nap  if  he  became  weary.  But  he 
bore  the  journey  even  better  than  Miss  Flem- 
ing had  expected,  and  that  first  night  he  slept 
soundly  in  his  little  bed  in  the  great  hotel. 

The  next  morning  the  ride  around  the  city 

270 


"THE   MIRACLE   VOICE" 

was  an  unparalleled  delight.  It  came  to  an  early 
end,  for  in  the  afternoon  he  was  to  sing  for  the 
famous  maestro  with  the  strange-sounding 
name,  of  whom  he  thought  he  should  stand  a 
bit  in  awe,  but  whom  Miss  Fleming  said  he 
need  not  fear  at  all.  So  before  luncheon  he 
had  a  long  nap,  and  awoke  as  fresh  as  if 
he  had  never  been  tired. 

When  at  last  he  was  in  the  actual  presence 
of  Signor  Castelvetro,  he  found  himself  look- 
ing into  very  gentle  eyes  and  listening  to  a 
soft,  musical  voice  that  bade  him  a  pleasant 
welcome. 

To  the  surprise  of  Doodles  he  heard  Miss 
Fleming  talking  with  the  Signore  in  his  native 
tongue  as  fluently  as  if  she  were  speaking 
English;  but  soon  she  turned  to  him,  asking 
him  to  sing  "Little  Boy  Blue"  as  he  had  sung 
it  for  her  the  week  before. 

Without  the  least  hesitation  Doodles  sang, 
and  the  song  sounded  even  better  —  so  Miss 
Fleming  thought  —  than  in  the  little  kitchen 
up  in  The  Flatiron. 

Signor  Castelvetro  gave  him  a  quick  word 
of  thanks,  and  with  many  gestures,  went 
on  talking  rapidly  in  mingled  English  and 
271 


DOODLES 

Italian,  not  much  of  which  the  boy  could 
understand.  Several  times  he  caught  the 
phrase,  "  the  miracle  voice,"  and  he  wondered 
if  it  might  refer  to  his  own,  and  then  felt  him- 
self blushing  at  so  foolish  a  conjecture. 

Presently  he  was  singing  again,  —  "  Robin 
Adair,"  "Nae  Room  for  Twa,"  "Lead, 
Kindly  Light,"  and  others.  He  sang  and  sang, 
conscious  only  of  the  music  and  a  sympathetic 
audience,  sometimes  forgetting  his  audience 
altogether. 

The  Signore's  praise  was  hearty  and  pro- 
fuse, but  given  as  it  was  in  a  mixture  of  lan- 
guages Doodles  knew  little  of  what  was  said. 
Still  he  was  sure  that  the  great  man  liked 
his  singing,  and  that  made  him  glad  indeed. 

"My  pupeels  haf  a  musicale  to-morrow 
efening,"  Signor  Castelvetro  was  saying.  "I 
s'all  be  verra  happee  if  you  will  sing  for  us." 
He  waited,  smiling  down  on  Doodles. 

The  lad  glanced  questioningly  at  Miss 
Fleming. 

"You  would  like  to  sing?"  she  queried. 
"You  would  not  be  afraid?" 

"I  always  like  to  sing,"  was  his  simple 
answer.  "No,  I  shall  not  be  afraid.  There  is 
272 


UTHE   MIRACLE   VOICE" 

nothing  to  be  afraid  of,  is  there?"  He  turned 
trustful  eyes  to  the  Signore. 

"No,  no,  you  of  the  miracle  voice  haf 
not'ing  to  fear!"  The  smile  was  tender  as  a 
mother's. 

So  it  was  true  —  what  he  had  not  dared  to 
believe!  Could  it  be  like  one  of  the  beautiful 
Bible  miracles  —  his  voice?  He  was  wonder- 
ing about  it  through  all  the  arrangement  of 
details,  and  he  bade  the  Signore  good-bye 
still  in  a  whirl  of  thought. 

"Didn't  he  sing  beautifully? "  exclaimed 
Daphne,  as  the  little  party  settled  itself  in  the 
limousine.  "I  am  so  glad  you  are  going  to 
sing  at  the  musicale!"  She  gave  Doodles  a 
loving  little  squeeze. 

"Are  you  tired,  dear? "  inquired  Miss  Flem- 
ing anxiously. 

"Not  a  bit,"  was  the  happy  answer.  "I 
have  n't  had  anything  to  make  me  tired." 

"Except  the  singing." 

"Oh,  it  never  tires  me  to  sing!"  smiled 
Doodles. 

So  as  the  little  face  showed  no  sign  of  weari- 
ness Miss  Fleming  gave  Barrow  the  order, 
"To  the  park,"  instead  of  returning  directly 
273 


DOODLES 

to  the  hotel.  There  Doodles  saw  so  many 
novel  and  interesting  things  that  for  the  time 
he  forgot  the  chief  of  his  thoughts,  —  when 
should  he  go  to  the  great  surgeon  whose  word 
was  to  bring  him  joy  or  sorrow?  But  after 
luncheon  he  said  to  himself,  "It  is  coming 
now  —  in  an  hour  or  two ! "  Yet  Miss  Fleming 
went  out  by  herself,  and  stayed  away  all  the 
afternoon,  leaving  Daphne  and  Doodles  to  the 
care  of  Laure,  her  maid.  They  had  a  happy 
time  with  some  new  books  and  photographs; 
but  through  it  all  buzzed  the  questions, 
"When  will  it  be?  What  will  the  doctor 
say?" 

On  the  following  morning,  by  appointment, 
the  party  started  early  for  the  Signore's, 
where  Doodles's  part  of  the  evening's  pro- 
gramme was  to  be  rehearsed. 

As  they  entered  the  room  and  the  maestro 
came  forward  to  greet  them,  Doodles  chanced 
to  look  beyond  the  broad  shoulders  of  the 
Signore  to  a  boy  at  a  farther  window.  He  was 
fingering  a  violin.  One  glance  at  the  dark  face 
was  enough,  and  he  gave  a  glad  little  cry. 
The  boy  looked  up,  dropped  his  instrument, 
and  dashed  across  the  floor,  embracing 
274 


"THE   MIRACLE  VOICE" 

Doodles  in  the  arms  of  the  astonished  Barrow, 
and  kissing  him  on  lip  and  cheek. 

Miss  Fleming  and  Signer  Castelvetro 
stopped  speaking  to  gaze,  while  Daphne  so 
far  forgot  herself  as  to  push  between  the 
two  in  her  eagerness  to  see  what  was  going 
on. 

It  was  the  privilege  of  Doodles  to  introduce 
Christarchus  to  his  friends,  and  he  was  pleased 
to  see  that  the  gentle  Greek  lad  was  received 
with  favor  by  Miss  Fleming. 

The  Signore  smiled  delightedly  upon  every- 
body, assuring  them  that  this  was  "a  verra 
bleesful  acceedent,"  inasmuch  as  it  promised 
perfect  sympathy  between  singer  and  accom- 
panist. 

The  rehearsal  went  off  merrily.  When 
"Annie  Laurie"  was  mentioned,  Christarchus 
showed  his  white  teeth  in  a  brilliant  smile. 

"I  t'inkwe  tryeet  once,  and  Caruso — !" 
his  slim  hands  ended  the  sentence  in  a  way 
that  sent  Doodles  into  a  gleeful  little  laugh. 

"Caruso?"  queried  the  Signore  with  a 
puzzled  scowl. 

"My  mocking  bird,"  explained  Doodles. 
"He  sings  'Annie  Laurie'  very  nicely,  but 
275 


DOODLES 

that  time  he  sang  one  of  his  queer  medleys 
and  broke  us  all  up." 

The  boys  laughed  again  at  the  amusing 
remembrance  before  they  could  settle  down  to 
the  song;  but  the  Signore  smiled  indulgently, 
the  intimate  friendship  of  the  lads  seeming  to 
please  him. 

When  they  separated,  Doodles  was  de- 
lighted to  hear  Miss  Fleming  invite  Chris- 
tarchus  to  lunch  with  them  the  next  day,  and 
he  said  good-bye  feeling  that  only  one  thing 
more  was  needed  to  make  his  cup  of  happiness 
very  full  indeed. 

The  musicale  was  an  undoubted  success, 
and  that  part  in  which  Doodles  and  Chris- 
tarchus  were  naturally  most  interested  was 
not  the  least  applauded  of  the  programme. 
Doodles  was  given  sufficient  praise  to  turn 
the  head  of  a  less  modest  performer;  but  he 
received  it  all  with  his  usual  artless  courtesy 
and  open  pleasure,  charming  those  who  took 
the  pains  to  speak  with  him. 

Signor  Castelvetro  assured  him  that  he 
could  easily  obtain  a  good  choir  position  if  he 
would  come  to  New  York,  adding  as  an  in- 
ducement that  he  should  be  glad  to  give  him 

276 


"THE  MIRACLE  VOICE" 

lessons  free  of  charge.  But  Miss  Fleming,  on 
behalf  of  Doodles,  while  she  thanked  the 
Signore  for  his  kindness,  smiled  a  firm  refusal. 

Although  the  day  following  was  their  last 
in  the  city,  the  talked-of  call  upon  the  surgeon 
was  not  mentioned.  Doodles  dared  not  ask, 
and  thus  even  the  visit  of  Christarchus  lost 
some  of  its  anticipated  joy. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  when  Daphne  had 
gone  out  with  Laure  for  a  little  last  shopping, 
and  Doodles  and  Miss  Fleming  were  left 
alone,  he  ventured  a  wistful  question. 

"  Are  n't  we  going  to  see  that  doctor  before 
we  go  home?" 

The  girl  laid  down  the  book  she  was  read- 
ing, and  came  over  to  his  chair. 

"Dear  boy,"  she  said,  "I  saw  him  on 
Wednesday.  Have  you  been  thinking  about 
it  all  this  time?" 

Doodles  bowed  his  answer  —  words  would 
not  come. 

"I  ought  to  have  told  you,"  she  regretted, 
"but  I  was  afraid  of  spoiling  the  rest  of  your 
visit.  The  doctor  thought,"  she  went  on 
slowly,  "it  was  not  necessary  to  see  you.  He 
said  he  was  unusually  busy,  and  that  the 
277 


DOODLES 

examination  would  only  cause  pain  and  be  of 
no  use.  He  thinks  — "  her  voice  faltered. 

"That  I  can't  ever  walk,"  Doodles  con- 
cluded softly. 

The  gill  caught  him  in  her  arms  with  a  sob. 

"Oh,  dear  boy!"  she  cried,  "I  wish  you 
could!" 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

DOODLES   KEEPS   ON 

THE  first  days  of  Doodles's  home-coming 
were  full  of  a  mild  excitement.  Besides  there 
being  so  much  to  talk  about  when  the  little 
family  was  alone,  almost  everybody  in  The 
Flatiron  was  eager  to  give  a  personal  welcome 
to  the  small  traveler,  as  well  as  to  hear  about 
his  visit  to  the  great  city.  But  after  all  the 
tenants  had  come  and  gone,  and  the  boy  was 
left  to  himself  for  the  most  of  the  long  day,  his 
disappointment  returned  to  haunt  and  torture 
him.  There  were  times  when  even  his  violin 
had  no  power  to  drive  away  the  bitter 
thoughts. 

Blue  perceived  that  something  was  wrong. 
His  brother's  merry  laugh  had  dropped  to  a 
wan  smile,  and  occasionally  there  was  the 
sound  of  a  wee  sigh.  The  matter  came  to  a 
climax,  one  day,  when  school  was  closed  at  an 
unexpected  hour,  and  Doodles  was  caught 
crying. 

279 


DOODLES 

At  first  the  little  lad  refused  to  give  any 
reason  for  his  tears;  but  Blue  would  not  let 
him  off,  and  the  direct  cause  of  his  sorrow  was 
finally  disclosed. 

"I  don't  know  —  what  to  do!"  he  sobbed. 
A  gush  of  tears  halted  his  speech,  but  he  went 
on  quickly.  "It  doesn't  do  any  good!  I 
thought  't  was  going  to  —  in  New  York  — 
and  now  it  has  n't !  But  it  seems  so  mean  not 
to  keep  on!" 

"Keep  on  what?"  Blue  burst  out. 

"Why,  asking  God  to  let  me  walk!" 
Doodles  answered.  "You  know  I've  been 
asking  and  asking  for  so  long." 

"Yes,"  Blue  assented.  "But  if  I  were  you 
I  would  n't  bother  any  more  — 

He  was  sorry  it  was  out,  for  a  look  came 
over  his  brother's  face  that  he  had  never  seen 
there  before,  —  horror  and  anguish  blended 
in  one. 

"No,  I  guess  I'd  keep  on!"  Blue  quickly 
amended. 

"Oh!  would  you?"    It  was  like  sunshine 

bursting  from  a  storm  cloud.    "I  want  to  — 

oh,  how  I  want  to !  But  I  did  n't  know.  God 

says  if  we  ask  for  anything  He  will  give  it  to 

280 


DOODLES  KEEPS  ON 

us,  and  why  do  you  s'pose  He  does  n't  let  me 
walk?" 

"I  do'  know,"  sighed  Blue.  His  knowledge 
did  not  extend  to  such  deep  problems. 

"It  seems  awfully  mean  to  give  right  up," 
Doodles  went  on,  "but,"  his  voice  dropped 
mournfully,  "I  s'pose  that  doctor  knows. 
Still,  God  could  cure  me  if  all  the  doctors  in 
the  world  should  say  I  could  n't  ever  walk, 
could  n't  He?" 

"I  guess  so,"  answered  Blue  gloomily. 

"And  I  can't  see  why  He  does  n't  when  I 
want  to  so  much." 

Blue  was  silent.  His  thoughts  just  then 
would  scarcely  have  helped  matters. 

"What  do  you  think?" 

"I  do'  know  noth'n'  'bout  it.  Why  don't 
you  ask  mother?" 

"I  did  begin  one  day;  but  she  feels  so  bad 
about  what  the  New  York  doctor  said  —  no, 
I  can't  ask  her!" 

"Try  Miss  Fleming,  when  she  comes  to  give 
you  your  lesson,"  shirked  Blue. 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  she  knows!  I'd  rather 
you'd  tell  me." 

"Tell  you  what?"  parried  the  elder  boy. 

281 


DOODLES 

"If  God  wants  me  to  keep  on.  Seems  as  if 
I  could  n't  stop!  I've  been  stopping,  and  it's 
'most  killed  me!" 

"Well,  for  pity's  sake,  keep  on  then!"  Blue 
advised. 

"Would  you  really?  And  you  don't  think 
it '11  be  wicked?" 

"Wicked!  no!" 

"And  He  must  answer  me  sometime,  if  I 
keep  right  on,  and  don't  give  up  a  single  bit, 
mustn't  He?  'Cause  the  Bible  says  'any- 
thing,' you  know,  and  that  must  mean  walk- 
ing. If  it  said  'except  to  walk/  of  course  I 
couldn't;  but  there  isn't  a  single  'except' 
anywhere,  is  there?" 

"I  never  saw  one,"  admitted  the  other. 

"So  you  do  b'lieve  He  will  let  me  some- 
time?" insisted  Doodles. 

"Sure!"  nodded  Blue  recklessly,  and  the 
next  minute  called  himself  a  fool,  seeing  the 
joy  leap  in  his  brother's  face. 

On  his  way  downtown  he  went  over  the  talk 
bitterly. 

"Now  he'll  think  he's  goin'  to  walk!"  he 
muttered.  "And  he  can't,  —  ever,  ever, 
ever!"  hammering  out  the  words  with  pas- 

282 


DOODLES  KEEPS  ON 

sionate  force.   "O  God,  why?"  The  old,  old 
question  clamored  in  his  heart. 

On  one  end  of  the  Courant  Building  adver- 
tisements were  posted.  For  a  week,  almost  on 
the  very  corner,  had  stood  the  picture  of  a 
man,  a  tall,  handsome  man  in  gallant  uniform 
of  blue  and  red  and  gold.  Every  day  the  boy 
had  seen  it,  but  seen  it  indifferently;  his  eyes 
had  never  gone  further.  Now,  suddenly,  they 
took  in  the  words  that  accompanied  the  figure. 
They  were  in  big,  bold  type. 

THE  LAME  WALK! 
THE  DEAF  HEAR! 
THE  BLIND  SEE! 

That  was  what  Blue  read,  and  involuntarily 
stopped  to  read  more. 

The  announcement  stated  that  Doctor 
Emmanuel  de  Vendome,  the  celebrated 
healer,  recently  a  famous  surgeon  in  the 
French  army,  would  be  at  Hotel  Royal  for  a 
few  weeks,  where  he  would  give  examinations 
absolutely  free  to  all. 

"I  wonder — "  began  Blue,  and  thereby 

283 


DOODLES 

started  a  train  of  thought  which  raced 
through  his  mind  for  the  next  busy  hour. 
How  he  succeeded  in  delivering  his  papers  on 
the  proper  doorsteps  is  surprising,  considering 
what  air  castles  he  builded  during  that  time. 
But  he  was  free  at  last  to  rush  home  to 
Doodles,  whom  in  a  few  minutes  he  managed 
to  work  up  to  an  excitement  far  exceeding  his 
own. 

It  was  decided,  long  before  Mrs.  Stickney 
came,  that  Doodles  should  go  for  a  free  exam- 
ination, and  although  the  mother  could  not 
feel  as  sanguine  of  success  as  the  boys  did, 
still  she  gave  a  ready  permission,  Blue  arguing 
that  it  was  not  going  to  cost  "a  lonesome 
cent." 

The  next  day  Blue  hastened  home  from 
the  afternoon  session,  bringing  Joseph  with 
him,  and  the  trio  started  without  delay.  At 
the  hotel,  however,  they  found  a  crowd  ahead 
of  them,  and  they  were  forced  to  wait  until 
nearly  six  o'clock  before  being  admitted  to 
the  imposing  presence  of  the  uniformed  phy- 
sician. 

To  their  surprise  the  examination  was 
slight,  consisting  only  of  a  few  questions  and 

284 


DOODLES  KEEPS  ON 

a  superficial  fingering  of  the  lad's  back.  It 
was  over  so  quickly  that  the  boys  left  the 
room  in  rather  a  dazed  whirl,  realizing  only 
that  the  epauleted  stranger  had  asserted 
that  Doodles  could  be  helped  and  probably 
cured,  and  that  he  was  to  have  his  first  treat- 
ment on  the  morrow  at  a  charge  of  five  dol- 
lars. 

The  mother  looked  grave  over  the  doctor's 
fee;  but  she  finally  yielded  to  Blue's  urging, 
and  Doodles  went  to  bed  to  dream  of  march- 
ing, actually  marching,  in  line  with  gayly- 
uniformed  soldiers.  Thomas  Fitzpatrick  and 
Joseph,  and  Christarchus  were  there,  with 
epaulets  upon  their  shoulders,  —  and  then, 
just  as  he  was  screwing  his  head  round  to 
see  his  own  shoulders,  came  the  order,  "For- 
ward!" and  he  awoke. 

The  following  afternoon,  in  the  hour  before 
school-closing,  just  as  the  small  boy  was  feel- 
ing the  slow  progress  of  the  moments  before  it 
would  be  time  for  Blue,  who  should  knock  at 
the  door  but  Thomas  Fitzpatrick!  Presently 
Doodles  was  talking  of  the  hopes  that  were 
thronging  his  heart. 

"Would  n't  it  be  beautiful  if  I  could  walk 

285 


DOODLES 

again?"  Doodles  went  on  enthusiastically,  his 
fair  face  pink  with  excitement,  and  his  brown 
eyes  luminous  with  hope. 

The  policeman's  lips  parted  —  and  came 
together.  Then  he  said  quietly :  — 

"It  would,  sure!" 

"I  guess  I  shall,"  Doodles  smiled.  "The 
doctor  thinks  so.  It  is  going  to  cost  a  good 
deal,  five  dollars  a  time;  but  mother  says  she 
does  n't  begrudge  the  money,  if  he  can  do  me 
a  bit  of  good.  Oh,  I've  wondered  and  won- 
dered what  it  would  feel  like  to  jump  right  up 
and  run  across  the  room,  as  Blue  does  —  and 
to  think  I  shall  know!"  His  voice  dropped 
almost  to  a  whisper,  as  if  the  thought  were  too 
precious  to  speak. 

The  officer  pulled  out  his  watch  with  a  hand 
that  trembled. 

"I  must  be  going,  little  man,"  he  said.  "I 
had  an  hour  off  duty,  so  I  thought  I'd  just 
drop  in  and  say,  'How  d'  ye  do?'  and, 
'Good-bye!'" 

He  held  the  small  hand  in  a  tight  squeeze, 
and  then,  for  Thomas  Fitzpatrick,  he  did  a 
most  remarkable  thing,  he  bent  over  and 
kissed  the  uplifted  face. 

286 


DOODLES  KEEPS  ON 

" Good-bye!"  called  Doodles,  as  the  tall 
man  strode  towards  the  door. 

And  from  out  the  depths  of  a  husky  throat 
came  the  answering,  "Good-bye!" 

Once  more  the  policeman's  watch  told  him 
that  it  still  lacked  fifteen  minutes  of  school- 
closing.  The  intervening  time  was  spent  in 
street  chats  with  acquaintances,  and  some  of 
them  appeared  to  be  absorbing;  but  promptly 
on  the  appointed  moment  Fitzpatrick  was  in 
front  of  the  Franklin  School,  his  keen  eye  on 
the  lookout  for  Blue. 

In  the  center  of  a  troup  of  jostling,  shouting 
boys  the  officer  spied  him,  and  presently  the 
lad  was  caught  on  the  run  by  a  strong  arm. 

"Oh!"  he  laughed,  "it's  you!  I  was  goin' 
to  give  it  to  whoever  was  grabbin'  me  that 
style!" 

"Come  over  here!  I've  got  something  to 
tell  you." 

"Won't  it  keep?"  objected  Blue.  "I've 
important  business  on  hand  and  can't  stop — : 

"Yes,  you  can!  Come  on!"  He  started 
across  the  street,  away  from  the  crowd  of 
grinning  boys. 

"What  is  it?  You  see,  I'm  due  at  Hotel 

287 


DOODLES 

Royal  at  quarter  past  four,  and  —  Hold  on 
there,  Joseph!  I'll  be  back  in  a  jiffy!" 

11  You '11  have  time  for  anything  when  I'm 
through  with  ye,"  said  the  officer  grimly. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  cried  Blue,  startled 
by  Fitzpatrick's  manner.  "  Is  Doodles  — ?" 

"  He 's  all  right,  poor  little  kid ! "  The  officer 
shook  his  head  sadly.  "  I  've  just  been  up  to  see 
him." 

"Oh!  then  he  told  you  — " 

"He  did!  And  it  broke  me  all  up!  Blue 
Stickney,  you've  got  to  take  my  word  for  it, 
without  any  explanation!  Don't  ye  waste  a 
cent  on  that  doctor  up  at  the  hotel!" 

"Wh—  what?"  Blue  stammered. 

"I  mean  what  I  say!  Give  him  a  wide 
berth,  and  keep  whist!  Tom  Fitzpatrick 
knows  what  he's  talking  about!  I  started  to 
tell  the  kid,  but  it  was  too  much  for  me  —  I 
couldn't  do  it!" 

"Why,  I'm  —  was  going  to  take  him  up 
there  this  afternoon  for  the  first  treat- 
ment!" 

"I  know !  It 's  a  shame !  But  it 's  lucky  you 
have  n't  thrown  away  any  five  dollars!" 

"Are  you  sure  he  ain't  all  right?"  Blue 

288 


DOODLES  KEEPS  ON 

scowled.  "Why  he  was  in  the  French  army, 
and  he  wears  epaulets!" 

The  policeman  gave  a  short  laugh. 

"I'm  not  saying  he  isn't  all  right,  am  I? 
I'm  telling  you  to  let  him  alone,  and  not  to 
breathe  a  syllable  outside  —  that's  all!  " 

"It's  too  bad!"  Blue's  forehead  puckered 
into  deep  lines  and  ridges. 

"It  is  that!"  agreed  the  officer,  shaking  his 
head  sorrowfully,  thinking  of  Doodles. 

The  boy  went  home  in  a  frenzy.  What 
should  he  tell  his  brother?  How  would  he 
take  it? 

"Blue  Stickney!  where  have  you  been? 
What  makes  you  so  late?  Did  you  have  to 
stay  after  school?  Where's  Joseph?"  The 
eager  questions  popped  out  in  a  breath. 

"We  ain't  goin' ! "  Blue  threw  his  cap  on  the 
floor,  and  himself  into  the  rocker. 

" Why  not?" 

"Tom  Fitzpatrick  told  me  not  to  —  and 
that's  all  I  know!"  The  words  came  with  a 
fierce  snap. 

"But  he's  been  here  — he  didn't  say 
anything!  Why—?" 

"I  tell  you,  I  don't  know!  He  said  to  keep 

289 


DOODLES 

away  from  that  doctor,  and  not  to  blab.  I 
s'pose  he's  a  crook,  and  the  police  have  got 
on  to  it." 

He  had  been  talking  to  the  floor;  now  he 
glanced  up. 

The  little  white  face,  all  the  eager  joy  gone 
out  of  it;  the  big,  startled  eyes  that  looked 
past  his  brother,  into  the  long,  helpless  years 
ahead;  —  it  overpowered  Blue's  self-com- 
mand. He  put  his  hands  to  his  face  and  broke 
into  sobs. 

"Why,  Blue,  don't!  Don't  cry!"  pleaded 
Doodles.  "See!  I'm  not  crying!  If  that  doc- 
tor is  n't  a  nice  man,  God  would  n't  have  let 
him  cure  me  anyway,  so  it  is  better  to  know  it 
before  I  began.  Don't  cry,  please  don't!  I'm 
not  going  to  give  up !  I  am  going  to  keep  on!" 


CHAPTER  XXV 

IN   FAIR   HARBOR 

THE  morning  newspapers  announced  the 
arrest  of  Emmanuel  de  Vendome,  alias  Henry 
Cochin,  who  was  wanted  by  another  state  to 
answer  various  charges,  and  the  policeman's 
warning  against  the  epauleted  stranger  was 
at  once  made  clear.  The  Stickneys'  thankful- 
ness lessened  the  sting  of  disappointment,  and 
then:  gratitude  to  Thomas  Fitzpatrick  grew 
great. 

Blue  and  his  mother  came  home  at  noon  to 
find  Doodles  in  overflowing  good  spirits. 

" Guess  what  I've  got!"  he  cried.  "But 
you  could  n't  —  ever!  Some  wedding  cards! 
Whose  do  you  s'pose?" 

"Dolly  Moon's!"  shouted  Blue. 

"Oh,  you've  guessed  right  the  first  tune!" 
laughed  Doodles.  "But  who  to?  —  that's 
what!" 

"I  do'  know  —  how  should  I?" 

291 


DOODLES 

"Is  it  Mr.  Gaylord?"  ventured  Mrs. 
Stickney. 

"Aw!  why  didn't  I  think  o'  him!"  cried 
Blue,  catching  the  truth  from  his  brother's 
face. 

The  announcement  was  read  and  reread, 
fingered  and  talked  about. 

"They  ought  to  have  invited  us,"  com- 
mented Blue. 

"I  presume  they  didn't  have  much  of  a 
wedding,"  returned  the  mother. 

"Queer  't  they're  going  to  be  'at  home'  in 
Fair  Harbor,"  went  on  Blue.  "He  must  have 
got  something  to  do  there  —  I  wonder  what. 
That's  only  twenty  miles  or  so  from  here;  I 
think  they  might  come  up  and  see  us." 

"Perhaps  they  will!"  beamed  Doodles. 
"Isn't  it  nice  they  directed  it  to  me?  You 
don't  care,  do  you?"  He  cast  an  anxious  look 
towards  the  others. 

"Not  a  bit,"  Blue  assured  him,  while  Mrs. 
Stickney  hurried  the  dinner  along  to  the  ac- 
companiment of  merry  talk  and  many  sur- 
mises concerning  the  newly  married  pair. 

On  the  succeeding  noon  Doodles  was  still 
more  excited. 

292 


IN  FAIR  HARBOR 

"Well,  who's  married  this  time?"  laughed 
Blue,  as  his  brother  waved  a  white  envelope 
for  greeting. 

"Nobody  else,"  chuckled  the  small  boy; 
"but  just  you  read  it!" 

Blue  pulled  out  the  sheet,  and  read  aloud :  — 

SWEETHEART  DEAR:  - 

Did  you  get  the  announcement  yesterday 
—  which  would  never  have  been  but  for  you? 

We  had  the  tiniest  wedding  that  ever  was, 
with  only  grandpa  and  Aunt  Sarah  for  guests, 
and  here  we  are  at  Giles's  Aunt  Ruth's!  She 
is  a  dear  little  woman  who  has  n't  been  out- 
doors on  her  feet  for  twenty-five  years.  We 
shall  stay  only  a  few  days,  and  then  are  going 
to  begin  housekeeping  in  our  little  nest  at 
Fair  Harbor.  It  is  the  cosiest  place,  all  fur- 
nished and  ready  for  us,  even  to  a  hod  of  coal 
and  basket  of  kindlings  by  the  stove!  I  can 
hardly  wait  for  you  to  see  it.  Just  as  soon  as 
we  are  settled  we  are  coming  up  to  carry  you 
home  with  us  for  over  Sunday.  Giles  has  en- 
gaged with  the  Valentia  Company,  to  sell 
their  cars,  and  will  have  one  to  use.  So  we 
shall  spin  up  to  see  you  often.  I  think  we 

293 


DOODLES 

shall  keep  you,  sweetheart,  for  a  fortnight  or 
so,  as  you  have  neither  silverware  nor  school 
books  to  make  demands  upon  you.  So  get 
your  suitcase  packed.  Don't  you  dare  say 
no!  We  shall  come  soon,  but  I  will  write 
ahead.  Giles  sends  love  to  you  all,  as  do  I. 
Grandpa  wanted  me  to  be  sure  and  give  you 
his.  He  says  he  shall  never  forget  the  songs 
you  sang  to  him. 

Always  yours, 

DOROTHY  MOON  GAYLORD. 

"Isn't  that  just  jolly!"  cried  Blue,  begin- 
ning a  double  shuffle,  which  his  mother 
hushed.  "Won't  we  have  a  dandy  time!" 

"  You'll  go,  won't  you?  "  anxiously  inquired 
Doodles. 

"I  don't  see  why  not,"  she  smiled.  " I 'd  be 
glad  to  get  away  for  a  day  or  two." 

Thus  it  was  decided,  and  Mrs.  Stickney 
washed  and  ironed  and  mended  and  pur- 
chased, until  at  the  end  of  two  weeks,  when 
the  anticipations  came  true,  all  was  in  readi- 
ness for  the  unwonted  trip. 

For  the  first  few  minutes  Doodles  did  not 
feel  quite  acquainted  with  the  young  woman 
294 


IN  FAIR  HARBOR 

in  her  smart  new  tailored  suit,  whom  Mr. 
Gaylord  called  Dorothy;  but  the  stranger  was 
soon  lost  in  his  dear  "  Dolly  Moon,"  and  the 
party  was  stowed  away  in  the  roomy  car  and 
off  on  the  smooth  road  to  Fair  Harbor. 

It  had  at  first  been  planned  to  leave  Caruso 
with  Granny  O'Donnell;  but  as  the  time  of 
separation  drew  near,  Doodles  had  felt  so 
troubled  for  fear  some  mishap  might  befall  his 
pet,  that  the  bird  was  wrapped  up  and  taken 
along  with  them.  Blue  had  to  peep  into  the 
cage  now  and  then,  to  satisfy  Doodles  that 
things  were  going  well  with  his  treasure;  but 
the  report  was  always  good,  and  the  mocker 
reached  the  end  of  his  first  automobile  ride 
happy  and  ready  to  give  thanks  in  a  little 
carol. 

The  new  "nest"  was  the  second  floor  of 
a  pleasant  house  in  the  suburbs,  and  Mrs. 
Stickney  looked  with  almost  envying  eyes  on 
the  beautiful  surroundings,  wishing  it  were 
possible  for  her  to  give  her  children  such  a 
healthful  and  well-located  home.  But  long- 
ings were  soon  pushed  out  of  sight  by  the  joy- 
ful inspection  of  the  bride's  little  domain,  and 
the  hearing  about  the  courtship  and  its  result- 

295 


DOODLES 

ing  happiness,  for  all  of  which  the  two  most 
concerned  felt  that  they  owed  a  lasting  debt 
to  Doodles. 

On  Saturday  Lilith  Brooks,  a  girl  who  lived 
on  the  first  floor,  came  upstairs  to  call  on  Blue 
and  Doodles.  She  at  once  fell  in  love  with 
Caruso,  who  volunteered  to  do  his  share  of  the 
entertaining,  and  she  delighted  Doodles  by 
the  praises  she  showered  upon  the  songster. 

Midway  in  the  afternoon  she  appeared 
again,  bringing  with  her  a  schoolmate,  whom 
she  introduced  as  Polly  Dudley. 

"May  your  bird  sing  for  Polly?"  Lilith 
asked.  " I  do  so  want  her  to  hear  him!" 

"If  he  will,"  answered  Doodles,  throwing 
shy  glances  towards  the  pretty  stranger. 

But  the  mocker  was  not  in  an  obliging 
mood,  and  had  to  be  coaxed  and  coaxed  before 
he  would  even  give  a  note. 

Finally  Blue  began  whistling  "Annie  Lau- 
rie," and  after  it  had  been  many  times  re- 
peated the  bird  joined  in,  to  the  unbounded 
delight  of  the  girls.  Once  started,  he  kept  on, 
putting  the  young  visitors  into  raptures  with 
his  marvelous  powers. 

"Now  you  had  better    ask    Doodles  to 

296 


IN  FAIR  HARBOR 

sing,"  called  Mrs.  Gaylord  from  the  dining- 
room. 

"Oh,  do!"  the  girls  begged. 

Without  hesitation  the  boy  commenced  a 
favorite  hymn,  and  at  least  one  of  his  audi- 
ence was  so  surprised  and  captivated  by  his 
performance  as  to  sit  motionless  until  the 
song  was  ended. 

Then,  while  Lilith  ran  into  exclamations  of 
praise,  Polly  caught  one  of  Doodles's  hands, 
saying  in  her  soft  voice :  — 

"Does  it  tire  you  very  much?" 

"Oh,  no!  it  never  tires  me  to  sing,"  he 
smiled. 

"Please  sing  something  else,  then!  I 
love  it!" 

So  the  sweet,  magnetic  voice  rose  again,  — 
this  time  in  the  haunting  little  "Nae  Room 
for  Twa,"  and  afterwards  Lilith  pleaded  for 
"more "and  still  "more,"  until  Dorothy  in- 
terposed out  of  sheer  pity  for  Doodles. 

"What  a  lovely,  lovely  boy!"  cried  Polly, 
when  she  had  gone  downstairs  with  her 
friend. 

"I  think  he's  awfully  pretty,"  Lilith 
returned. 

297 


DOODLES 

"Yes,  but  not  only  that,  — he  has  such  a 
sweet  way.  And  I  never  heard  such  singing!  I 
thought  David  Collins  could  sing  better  than 
any  other  boy.  But  Doodles!  Why,  when  he 
sat  there  singing  that  Christmas  carol,  all  I 
could  think  of  was  an  angel!" 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Lilith  rapturously,  "with 
those  dear  little  curls  all  over  his  head,  and 
his  big  brown  eyes,  would  n't  he  make  a 
beautiful  angel  for  a  tableau?" 

"He  is  angel  enough  without  the  tableau," 
Polly  laughed.  Then  her  face  saddened. 
"It  is  too  bad  he  can't  walk!  Has  n't  he 
ever?" 

"Oh,  yes!  Mrs.  Gaylord  says  he  did  until 
he  was  about  four;  then  he  had  a  terrible  fall, 
and  he  has  n't  taken  a  step  since." 

"I  wonder  if  father  couldn't  cure  him," 
mused  Polly. 

"You  think  your  father  can  cure  every- 
body," laughed  Lilith. 

"Well,  he  can  —  almost  everybody! "  main- 
tained Polly.  "I  wish  they'd  let  father  see 
him." 

"I  guess  they've  tried  a  lot  of  doctors. 
Mrs.  Gaylord  told  mamma  that  a  famous 

298 


IN  FAIR   HARBOR 

New  York  surgeon  has  just  said  he  won't 
ever  be  any  better  —  is  n't  it  awful?" 

"I  wish  father  could  see  him!"  Polly  in- 
sisted longingly. 

"Do  you  think  your  father  knows  more 
than  that  big  New  York  doctor?"  asked 
Lilith  with  a  rallying  laugh. 

"Of  course,  he  does!  He  has  cured  lots  of 
children  that  those  great  surgeons  said 
couldn't  ever  be!" 

"You  can  ask  your  father  to  come  and  see 
him,"  suggested  Lilith. 

"Oh,  no,  he  never  would!"  Polly  shook  her 
head  decidedly.  "Unless  they  asked  him 
to,"  she  amended.  "Say,"  she  broke  out 
hurriedly,  "is  n't  that  Mr.  Gaylord?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm  going  to  see  him!"  Polly  rushed  into 
the  hall  as  the  car  stopped  and  a  gray-coated 
man  came  up  the  steps. 

"How  nice  to  have  two  girlies  to  open 
the  door  for  me!  But  this  is  a  new  one," 
smiling  to  Polly.  "Miss  Lilith,  please  pres- 
ent me!" 

"Why,  I  s'posed  Polly  knew  you,  the  way 
she  jumped  up  and  out  here ! "  Lilith  laughed. 
299 


DOODLES 

"This  is  Polly  Dudley,  Dr.  Dudley's  daugh- 
ter, don't  you  know?" 

"  I  have  heard  of  her.  Indeed,  I  am  glad  to 
have  the  privilege  of  meeting  the  lassie  of 
hospital  fame.  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Polly  of 
the  Hospital  Staff?"  He  bowed  low  over 
Polly's  hand. 

The  girls  laughed,  and  then  Polly  began 
abruptly :  — 

"Mr.  Gaylord,  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about 
that  lovely  little  lame  boy  —  Doodles.  I  wish 
they'd  let  father  see  him!  I  think  he  could 
cure  him!" 

Giles  Gaylord  drew  a  deep  breath,  and 
shook  his  head  gravely. 

"I'm afraid  even  your  father  could  n't  help 
him,"  he  replied.  "I  know  Dr.  Dudley  does 
wonderful  things,  but  this  is  an  extreme 
case." 

"He has  just  cured  a  little  girl  who  hadn't 
walked  for  two  or  three  years.  Her  father  and 
mother  had  tried  everybody,  even  had  taken 
her  abroad  to  some  famous  surgeons  over 
there  —  and  father  operated  on  her,  and  now 
she  is  all  right!" 

"I  am  afraid  his  mother  would  never  con- 

300 


IN  FAIR  HARBOR 

sent  to  an  operation  on  such  uncertainties 
as  must  be." 

"Well,  you  might  ask  father  what  he 
thinks/'  urged  Polly.  "I  know  he  would  n't 
charge  anything  for  an  examination." 

"I  will  suggest  it,  Miss  Polly,  and  thank 
you!  Even  his  mother  could  hardly  be  gladder 
than  I  to  see  Doodles  walk.  I  '11  talk  it  over 
with  them." 

The  talk  bore  such  good  fruits  that  an  exam- 
ination was  arranged  for  on  the  following  Mon- 
day, and  Doodles  spent  Sunday  in  a  state  of 
bliss.  God  was  surely  answering  his  prayers 
—  He  was  going  to  let  him  walk!  Next  morn- 
ing he  bade  his  mother  and  Blue  an  early 
good-bye,  his  face  radiant  with  joy. 

The  hour  appointed  was  three  in  the  after- 
noon, and  Dorothy  and  Doodles  were  waiting 
at  a  front  window  when  Mr.  Gaylord  drove 
up.  On  the  way  the  boy  wondered  for  the 
hundredth  time  how  Dr.  Dudley  would  look, 
if  he  would  wear  epaulets,  like  the  doctor  at 
Hotel  Royal,  and  whether  he  would  hurt  him 
very,  very  much,  or  simply  pass  his  hand  up 
and  down  his  back,  as  the  other  doctor  did. 

"They  are  building  a  new  hospital, or  rather 

301 


DOODLES 

Mrs.  Gresham  is,"  Dorothy  told  him;  "it  is 
to  be  exclusively  for  children.  In  the  mean- 
time Dr.  Dudley  is  receiving  patients  in  the 
house  where  he  lives,  but  he  cannot  accom- 
modate many.  I  am  glad  you  could  get  in  so 
soon.  You  will  like  the  Doctor;  everybody 
does." 

Doodles  wondered  if  he  were  as  nice  as 
Polly.  And  then,  before  he  had  time  to  ask, 
they /whirled  through  a  gateway  and  up  to  a 
door. 

To  the  surprise  of  the  little  lad  Dr.  Dudley 
was  a  young  man,  and  instead  of  a  gay  uni- 
form he  wore  a  short  white  coat  —  without 
epaulets.  But  Doodles  liked  him,  just  as 
Dorothy  had  said  —  his  voice,  his  manner, 
his  smile.  In  fact,  as  soon  as  the  Doctor  took 
his  hand  his  faith  rose  to  the  joy  point.  He 
could  not  be  thankful  enough  that  he  had 
"kept  on." 

The  examination  was  very  different  from 
the  one  at  Hotel  Royal.  Several  times  the 
physician's  gentle  fingers  caused  sharp  pain; 
but  the  lad  shut  his  teeth  hard,  and  did  not 
flinch. 

"Have  you  never  had  any  treatment?" 

302 


IN  FAIR  HARBOR 

Dr.  Dudley  asked,  —  "massage,  rubbing,  or 
the  like?" 

"Only  what  mother  does,"  Doodles  an- 
swered. "She  always  rubs  me  every  night, 
and  in  the  morning  when  she  has  time." 

"I  thought  so,"  he  nodded.  "Your  legs 
are  in  better  condition  than  legs  generally  are 
when  they  have  not  been  used  for  so  long." 

"She  has  done  it  ever  since  I  can  remem- 
ber," volunteered  Doodles. 

"Good!"  was  the  hearty  response. 

Presently  the  Doctor  took  up  a  curious 
three-part  instrument,  and  putting  an  end  in 
each  ear  laid  the  other  on  the  boy's  bare  chest, 
—  now  here,  now  there,  until  Doodles  won- 
dered if  he  were  going  all  over  in  that  way. 
But  no,  it  was  only  within  a  certain  space. 

"Absolutely  sound!"  Dr.  Dudley  turned  to 
Mrs.  Gaylord  with  a  radiant  smile. 

"Is  n't  that  fine ! "  she  returned  with  a  smile 
equally  bright. 

Doodles  wondered  why  they  were  so  de- 
lighted, but  he  did  not  like  to  ask. 

In  a  few  moments  he  was  waiting  on  the 
couch  in  the  reception  room,  while  Dr.  Dud- 
ley and  the  Gaylords  conversed  with  one 
303 


DOODLES 

another  in  the  adjoining  office.  A  draught 
had  drawn  the  door  almost  together,  and  only 
fragments  of  the  talk  could  be  heard;  but  the 
boy  patched  them  together  to  make  a  start- 
ling whole. 

"Good  fighting  chance  .  .  .  always  danger 
.  .  .  soon  as  possible  .  .  .  Wednesday  morn- 
ing .  .  .  walking  in  a  month  or  two." 

By  this  time  the  eager  listener  was  so  ex- 
cited that  he  failed  to  hear  anything  further, 
and  his  eyes  were  unusually  brilliant  when  the 
Doctor  said  good-bye. 

Dorothy  Gaylord  put  her  arm  around 
Doodles,  and  drew  him  close,  as  they  spun 
along  the  smooth  pavement. 

"Did  you  hear  what  Dr.  Dudley  said?" 

"A  little,"  he  answered. 

"Oh,  sweetheart,  he  thinks  you  have  such 
a  good  chance!  He  advises  an  operation  right 
away." 

The  word  sent  instant  terror  to  the  brave 
little  heart.  This  had  not  been  included  in  his 
wonderful  bill  of  items. 

"I  am  sure  your  mother  will  consent," 
Dorothy  went  on,  "everything  looks  so 
favorable.  Giles  is  going  up  to  Foxford  for  her 
304 


IN  FAIR   HARBOR 

and  Blue  as  soon  as  he  has  taken  us  home,  and 
they  will  stay  all  night.  Your  mother  can 
see  the  Doctor  this  evening,  and  arrange 
things  with  him.  Dearest!  won't  it  be  beau- 
tiful if  you  can  walk?  She  squeezed  the  little 
form  ever  so  lightly. 

"Beautiful!"  was  the  soft  echo  —  out  of 
a  trembling  heart.  Operation!  What  were 
they  planning  to  do  to  him?  He  had  heard  of 
operations  —  oh,  yes,  he  had  heard  of  little 
else  while  his  mother  was  sick!  Everybody  in 
The  Flatiron  talked  about  them  then.  Why, 
Mrs.  Corrigan  said  —  it  was  too  horrible  to 
think  of!  The  boy  tried  to  put  it  away,  but 
it  would  come  back! 

Mr.  Gaylord  had  slight  trouble  in  persuad- 
ing Mrs.  Stickney  to  permit  Doodles  to  go 
to  the  hospital.  Had  she  not  recently  passed 
through  a  successful  operation  herself?  The 
probable  chance  of  his  being  able  to  walk  was 
worth  a  little  risk.  When  she  saw  Dr.  Dudley 
she  was  ready  to  agree  to  his  wishes  without 
an  objection.  The  voice  of  Doodles  was  not 
asked  for,  and  the  little  lad  kept  silent. 

Blue,  with  his  keen  perception,  guessed 
something  of  his  brother's  fears. 
305 


DOODLES 

"Don't  you  be  worryin'  about  the  opera- 
tion, old  feller!  They'll  give  you  something 
so  you  won't  feel  it  a  bit!" 

Give  him  something!  The  words  were  a 
knife!  Doodles  scarcely  heard  the  rest  of  what 
Blue  was  saying. 

"Just  think  how  jolly  it'll  be  when  you  and 
I  play  football  together!" 

The  "football"  did  catch  his  ear.  It  made 
him  smile.  Yes,  he  would  try  to  think  about 
football,  as  Blue  bade  him.  What  if  they 
should  cut  him  in  pieces!  They  would  put 
him  together  again!  If  only  Mrs.  Corrigan 
had  n't  said  —  never  mind,  others  had  borne 
it  and  he  could! 

The  parting  between  Doodles  and  his 
mother  threatened  to  be  tearful  on  both  sides; 
but  it  was  arrested  by  Blue's  shout  that  the 
car  was  there,  and  in  a  moment  the  small  boy 
was  at  the  window  waving  his  good-byes. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
"DR.  POLLY" 

AT  ten  o'clock  Doodles  was  taken  to  the 
hospital  and  carried  directly  to  his  little  white 
room.  Everything  was  novel  and  pretty  to 
the  boy's  eyes,  but  prettiest  of  all  was  the 
white-capped,  smiling  nurse  who  received 
him.  He  was  undressed  at  once  and  put  into 
a  soft  bed,  where  he  had  two  little  pillows  at 
his  head.  He  watched  the  nurse  as  she  hung 
some  of  his  clothes  in  the  white  wardrobe 
and  folded  others  and  laid  them  away  in  the 
little  white  bureau.  How  strange  it  seemed  to 
go  to  bed  right  in  the  middle  of  the  day  while 
the  sun  was  shining! 

Presently  the  nurse  brought  writing  ma- 
terials, and  began  to  ask  him  questions,  — 
where  he  lived,  where  he  was  born,  his  age, 
his  mother's  maiden  name,  her  native  town, 
and  many  others.  Finally  she  inquired:  — 

"What  doctor  sent  you  here?" 

"No  doctor.   Polly  Dudley  told  Mr.  Gay- 

307 


DOODLES 

lord  that  she  thought  her  father  could  make 
me  walk,  and  so  he  wanted  mother  to  let  me 
go  to  see  him,  and  that 's  how  it  came  about." 

"Then  I  shall  have  to  put  it  down  'Dr. 
Polly/  shan't  I?" 

Doodles  chuckled. 

"It  isn't  the  first  time  she  has  sent  us  a 
patient,"  the  young  woman  went  on.  "Polly 
is  her  father's  right-hand  man." 

"I  think  she  is  lovely,"  returned  Doodles. 

"She  is,"  was  the  emphatic  assent. 

At  the  moment  another  nurse  brought  a 
small  tray  and  a  cup  of  broth.  She  swung  the 
top  of  a  table  directly  over  the  bed,  and  set 
the  tray  upon  it,  to  the  delight  of  the  little 
patient  who  had  never  seen  a  table  of  that 
sort. 

The  broth  was  hot  and  good,  and  Doodles 
sat,  propped  up  with  pillows,  and  sipped  and 
sipped  until  it  was  every  drop  gone.  Then,  as 
he  was  alone,  he  fell  to  admiring  the  cup.  It 
was  of  delicate  white  china,  with  a  handle  on 
each  side,  and  a  wreath  of  pansies  around  it. 
He  wondered  if  the  pansies  made  the  broth 
taste  better. 

From  the  cup  his  eyes  roved  round  the 
308 


"DR.   POLLY" 

room.  How  dainty  it  was!  And  light!  So  dif- 
ferent from  the  dim  bedroom  at  home!  The 
one  large  window  at  the  end  was  hung  with 
three  curtains,  —  a  very  dark  shade,  a  light 
shade,  and  drapery  of  white  muslin  looped 
at  either  side.  Through  the  clear  glass  he 
could  see  a  wide  sweep  of  blue  sky,  and  a  few 
trees  in  their  autumn  dress.  How  beautiful 
it  was!  He  was  still  gazing,  when  he  heard  a 
soft  "Hullo!"  He  turned  quickly,  to  see 
Polly  Dudley  in  the  doorway. 

"How  do  you  do?"  she  smiled.  "I  am  so 
glad  you  have  come !  I  should  have  been  dread- 
fully disappointed  if  you  had  n't!" 

"You  would?"  returned  Doodles  in  sur- 
prised tone. 

"Of  course,"  laughed  Polly.  "Because  I 
want  you  to  walk  and  run  as  I  can." 

"Oh,  if  I  only  could!"  Doodles  replied. 
"But,"  a  bit  wistfully,  "your  father  isn't 
sure." 

"Almost,  I  guess,"  nodded  Polly.  "If  he 
had  n't  been  he  would  n't  have  urged  you  to 
come.  My,  I  know  what  it  is  not  to  walk!" 

Doodles  looked  at  her  in  amazement. 
"You?  "he  cried. 

309 


DOODLES 

"Yes.  I  was  hurt,  and  couldn't  walk  for 
ever  so  long.  I  know!"  Her  curls  waved  em- 
phatically. 

"Did  you  have  an  operation?" 

"Oh,  yes!  That  isn't  anything  to  mind, 
—  you  don't  know  it!" 

"No,"  Doodles  smiled  —  and  shivered  un- 
der the  bedclothes. 

They  talked  of  many  things,  —  Caruso, 
Lilith  Brooks,  Polly's  school,  and  the  new 
hospital  which  was  building. 

Polly  stayed  until  the  nurse  came,  the  one 
with  dark  hair  and  eyes,  whom  they  called 
Miss  Eden.  Doodles  liked  her  very  much,  her 
smile  was  so  quick  and  so  cheering. 

After  a  while  she  brought  him  another  cup 
of  broth.  It  looked  the  same,  she  laughed,  but 
tasted  different.  Doodles  found  it  just  as  good 
as  the  first.  He  wondered  why  they  did  not 
give  him  something  to  eat  with  it,  yet  he 
asked  no  questions. 

One  nurse  or  another  came  often,  but  some 
of  the  time  the  small  patient  was  alone.  Once 
he  went  to  sleep,  and  awoke  to  see  Polly  at 
his  side,  a  big  yellow  chrysanthemum  in  her 
hand. 

310 


"DR.   POLLY" 

"How  beautiful!"  he  smiled. 

"I  hoped  you  would  like  it.  It  is  almost  as 
good  as  the  sun,"  she  laughed.  "That  will  be 
gone  before  long,  but  this  will  stay."  She 
put  it  into  his  hand. 

"Is  it  for  me?"  he  asked  in  surprise. 

"Certainly.  A  girl  gave  it  to  me  at  school, 
and  I  said,  'Now  I  have  something  to  carry 
to  Doodles!'" 

"I  don't  see  why  you  should  think  of  me," 
he  said  musingly. 

"Because  lie-abed  folks  need  to  be  thought 
of  more  than  run-about  folks,  and  besides  — 
I  like  you!"  She  laughed,  and  skipped  away. 

At  the  tea  hour  came  a  cup  of  bouillon  — 
that  was  all.  Suddenly  Doodles  understood. 
He  remembered  hearing  a  woman  tell  Granny, 
while  his  mother  was  at  the  hospital,  that 
when  she  had  her  operation  they  gave  her 
nothing  to  eat  for  a  whole  day  beforehand,  - 
nothing  but  beef  tea  and  mutton  broth.  Yes, 
that  was  it !  It  made  the  morrow  seem  nearer. 
Then  he  began  again  to  think  of  what  the 
other  woman,  Mrs.  Corrigan,  had  said,  the 
dreadful  thing  that  had  haunted  him  ever 
since.  He  could  not  finish  his  supper. 
311 


DOODLES 

The  room  grew  dusky.  Even  the  golden 
chrysanthemum  could  not  brighten  the  black- 
ness. He  thought  of  the  kitchen  at  home  and 
wished  he  were  there.  Of  course,  he  wanted  to 
walk;  but,  oh,  if  Mrs.  Corrigan  hadn't  said 
it!  He  closed  his  eyes,  and  repeated  his  eve- 
ning prayer,  trying  to  trust  everything  to  the 
One  who  he  now  felt  sure  was  answering 
his  petitions;  but  —  he  could  see  the  woman, 
just  as  she  had  stood  against  the  dim  hallway, 
hands  on  her  hips;  he  could  see  the  horror  hi 
her  face,  the  uprolled  eyes,  as  she  told  about 
it!  He  turned  his  face  to  the  pillow,  yet  he 
could  not  shut  her  out. 

Presently  a  new  nurse  appeared,  and  put 
a  little  thermometer  under  his  tongue  and 
timed  his  pulse  by  her  watch.  When  she  went 
away  she  told  him  to  go  to  sleep. 

He  endeavored  to  do  as  she  bade  him ;  but 
sleep  would  not  come,  —  only  the  picture 
of  that  woman,  her  hands  upon  her  hips.  Her 
words  beat  through  his  brain!  They  would  not 
stop !  He  was  still  wide  awake  when  the  nurse 
came  softly  in.  She  opened  the  window  a  little 
wider  and  put  up  a  screen  to  shield  him  from 
the  wind,  for  the  night  was  chilly.  She  laid  her 

312 


"DR.   POLLY" 

cool  hand  on  his  forehead,  and  asked  if  he  felt 
lonely. 

"Oh,  no!"  he  answered. 

She  bent  over  and  kissed  him,  and  then 
went  out. 

The  speaking-tube  in  the  hall  was  beyond 
his  sight.  Otherwise  he  would  have  seen  Mrs. 
Fairfax  go  there  and  push  the  bell  button, 
and  if  he  had  been  near  enough  he  would  have 
heard  her  say:  — 

"Is  Polly  there?  May  she  come  up  for  a 
little  while,  please?" 

When  Polly  reached  the  head  of  the  stairs 
the  nurse  was  waiting  for  her. 

"Doodles  seems  troubled  about  something. 
His  pulse  is  away  up,  and  he  looks  as  if  he 
would  never  go  to  sleep.  Find  out  what  it  is, 
if  you  can,  and  tell  him  there  is  nothing  for 
him  to  be  afraid  of.  Perhaps  he  is  homesick; 
but  you  will  do  better  than  I.  He  is  not  ac- 
quainted with  me." 

Doodles  smiled  a  welcome  when  Polly 
turned  on  the  light. 

"The  flower  could  n't  keep  away  the  dark, 
could  it?"  she  laughed. 

The  boy  returned  a  plaintive  little  no. 

313 


DOODLES 

"Did  they  give  you  a  good  supper?" 
"Yes,  it  looked  nice.   I  was  n't  hungry." 
"  You  ought  to  have  been.   I  was!" 
Doodles  smiled.    Polly  was  so  bright,  as  if 
no  gloom  could  ever  touch  her.    Even  Mrs. 
Corrigan  would  not  be  able  to  frighten  her. 
He  wished  he  were  as  brave.  If  only  she  had  n't 
said  that  —  that  awful  thing!     Could  it  be 
true?  Doodles  shut  his  teeth  hard  —  through 
Polly's  chatter  the  words  rang  and  rang! 

"They  won't  let  you  have  anything  to  eat 
to-morrow,"  Polly  was  saying,  "or  to  drink 
either;  but  you  won't  care.  I  didn't  a  bit. 
You  don't  worry  about  to-morrow,  do  you? 
You  must  n't,  because  there  is  n't  anything 
to  dread,  not  a  single  thing!  Dr.  Keith  will 
examine  your  heart,  just  as  father  did.  But 
you  did  n't  mind  that,  did  you?  And  he  may 
take  your  blood-pressure  —  that  is  n't  any- 
thing! It  makes  your  arm  feel  funny  for  a 
minute  —  that 's  all ! " 
"Who  is  Dr.  Keith?" 
"Perhaps  you  haven't  seen  him.  He's 
ever  so  nice.  He  is  the  one  that  gives  the 
anaesthetic." 

"Oh!"  said  Doodles  weakly.    "Is  that  the 

314 


"DR.  POLLY" 

-the  ether?"     It  was  out  — the  terrible 
word !  He  had  meant  not  to  speak  it. 

"I  don't  think  they'll  give  you  ether — " 

"Not  give  me  ether!"  Doodles's  voice  was 
an  amazed  whisper. 

"I  don't  think  so  —  or  not  much.  Any- 
way you  won't  know  it!  Dr.  Keith  will  give 
you  gas  first." 

"Gas?"  repeated  Doodles  with  a  puzzled 
pucker  of  his  forehead. 

"Yes,  laughing  gas,  —  a  new  kind,  I  guess. 
It  is  n't  bad  to  take.  It  makes  your  head  feel 
whirly  inside,  that's  all.  I  don't  know  how 
ether  feels,  but  they  say  it  is  —  stuffy  —  stuf- 
fy eating."  Polly  still  stumbled  over  an  occa- 
sional long  word. 

"Oh,  yes,  that's  what  Mrs.  Corrigan  said!" 

"Who?" 

"A  woman  I  heard  telling  about  it.  She 
said  she'd  never,  never  take  it  again,  she'd 
rather  die  in  purgatory  seventeen  times!" 

Polly  giggled.  "That's  a  good  many!  I 
guess  she  did  n't  go  to  an  up-to-date  hospital. 
Father  makes  everything  so  easy  for  people. 
Has  that  worried  you  —  what  she  said?" 

"A  little,"  Doodles  nodded. 
315 


DOODLES 

"Well,  you  needn't  worry  any  more,  for 
you  won't  mind  the  gas.  You  can  breathe  just 
as  easy  as  you  can  now." 

"I'm  so  glad!"  murmured  Doodles.  A 
mountain  weight  slid  away  from  him. 

"I  must  go,  or  you  won't  have  any  chance 
to  sleep,"  Polly  laughed. 

"Thank  you  for  coming!  Thank  you  so 
much!"  He  caught  her  hand  and  squeezed 
it. 

"Good-night!"  she  said  gayly,  and  threw 
him  a  kiss  as  she  turned  off  the  light. 

"Poor  little  fellow!"  crooned  Mrs.  Fairfax, 
when  Polly  told  what  she  had  learned. ' '  That 's 
why  he  left  his  supper.  I  '11  get  him  something 
now;  he  will  sleep  better  for  it." 

When  she  brought  the  steaming  cup, 
Doodles  sipped  it  eagerly,  every  drop,  and  in 
five  minutes  he  was  fast  asleep. 

It  was  morning  when  he  awoke,  and  the 
first  thing  he  saw  was  a  tall  glass  vase  of  mag- 
nificent pink  roses.  Where  did  they  come  from? 

"Those  are  your  breakfast,"  Mrs.  Fairfax 
smiled,  appearing  with  a  bowl  of  water  and 
some  towels. 

"Did  Polly  give  them  to  me?" 
316 


"DR.   POLLY" 

"No,  a  lady  brought  them  late  last  even- 
ing." She  handed  him  a  card. 

"Oh,  Miss  Fleming!  That's  exactly  like 
her!  How  sweet  they  are!" 

"She  said  she  had  just  heard  that  you  were 
here,  and  so  came  down  last  night  that  you 
might  have  them  early  this  morning." 

Nothing  could  have  taken  Doodles's  mind 
so  completely  from  the  ordeal  ahead  as  the 
beautiful  flowers  and  the  thought  of  Miss 
Fleming's  coming  to  Fan-  Harbor,  at  that 
hour,  expressly  to  give  him  pleasure. 

Polly  ran  in  to  bring  a  bright  good-morning, 
and  was  given  a  bunch  of  the  long-stemmed 
beauties. 

"Are  there  any  other  children  here?" 
Doodles  asked,  just  as  she  was  going. 

"Yes,  nine;  three  girls  and  six  boys.  One 
of  the  girls  has  her  operation  at  ten." 

"This  morning?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh!  please  will  you  carry  her  some  of  my 
roses?" 

Polly  hesitated.    "You  won't  have  many 
left,  if  you  keep  giving  them  away,"  she  de- 
murred.  "She  can  have  some  of  mine." 
317 


DOODLES 

"No,  no!   Take  these!   I'll  have  enough." 

So  three  more  buds  were  chosen  from  the 
vase,  and  Doodles  happily  watched  them  go. 

The  lad's  idea  of  the  operating  room  had 
been  gained  from  Mrs.  Corrigan's  descrip- 
tion, —  "A  horrud  place  down  in  th'  base- 
mint  —  ugh !  ut  sure  gives  me  th'  crapes 
ivery  time  I  think  iv  ut!"  So  he  was  totally 
unprepared  for  the  large,  beautiful  room  on 
the  same  floor,  finished  all  in  white,  with  sun- 
shine streaming  in  at  the  windows;  and  its 
glass-topped  tables,  their  jars  and  bowls  of 
shimmering  crystal  filled  with  liquids  of  be- 
witching colors  —  oh,  it  was  so  different  from 
what  he  had  imagined!  And  he  discovered, 
too,  that  the  dreaded  table  itself  was  more 
like  a  high  couch,  where  he  had  a  little  pillow 
for  his  head  and  was  made  very  comfortable 
indeed.  The  smiling  man  in  spotless  white, 
who  gave  him  a  cordial  greeting  —  Doodles 
was  sure  it  must  be  Dr.  Keith,  who  Polly  had 
said  was  "nice." 

Things  went  along  much  as  Polly  had  told 
him,  and  presently  a  little  frilled  white  cap 
was  put  over  his  hair,  and  every  tiny  ringlet 
tucked  in.  Meantime  he  was  surprised  and 

318 


"DR.   POLLY" 

amused  at  the  appearance  of  others  in  the 
room.  The  head  nurse,  Miss  Price,  —  he  was 
certain  it  must  be  she,  —  was  all  in  white 
from  top  to  toe,  only  her  dark,  happy  eyes 
being  left  uncovered.  The  younger  nurse  was 
in  white,  too;  but  her  face  was  not  hidden, 
and  she  smiled  out  at  him  from  the  curious 
white  "sunbonnet"  on  her  head.  He  won- 
dered why  they  dressed  in  such  a  queer  fashion 
-it  was  like  the  masquerade  parties  that 
Leona  had  told  him  about. 

While  he  was  wondering,  a  damp  cloth  was 
laid  over  his  eyes,  —  "To  keep  them  from 
smarting,"  the  pleasant  voice  of  the  Doctor 
said. 

"Now  I  am  going  to  give  you  some  laugh- 
ing gas,"  Dr.  Keith  went  on,  "so  you  won't 
know  anything  about  it.  Breathe  easily  — 
that  is  all!" 

He  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  found  it  to 
be  just  as  Polly  had  declared;  whatever  it  was 
over  his  nose  and  mouth  was  not  uncomfort- 
able, and  he  could  breathe  as  well  as  ever. 
Something  began  to  whirl  in  his  head. 

"  Feel  a  little  bit  sleepy?  "  asked  the  Doctor. 

"Not  sleepy,  only  whirly,"  was  the  answer. 

319 


DOODLES 

The  whirl  went  a  little  higher,  almost  to 
the  edge  of  his  hair  —  then  there  was  a  rustle 
at  his  side.  "  They  can't  put  me  to  sleep,  after 
all!"  Doodles  thought,  and  opened  his  eyes. 
He  saw  an  electric  light  fixture  —  it  looked 
like  the  one  in  his  little  white  room!  Some- 
body said  —  it  sounded  like  Miss  Eden:  — 

"Do  you  know  me?" 

He  looked.  It  was  Miss  Eden!  He  was  in 
his  own  little  white  bed! 

Could  —  could  IT  be  over?  He  voiced  his 
thought  at  once. 

"Certainly  it  is,"  she  smiled. 

He  drew  a  long,  happy  breath.  "It  does  n't 
seem  a  minute!"  he  said. 

"More  than  an  hour,"  was  the  reply. 

She  pulled  down  the  dark  shade,  and  he 
had  a  short  nap.  When  he  awoke  he  felt  so 
glad,  glad,  glad!  He  wondered  if  he  were  go- 
ing to  walk.  Then  he  slept  again. 

The  next  time  he  opened  his  eyes  Dr.  Dud- 
ley was  there.  He  took  his  hand,  and  told 
him  that  everything  looked  very  favorable. 
Doodles  knew  that  meant  that  the  Doctor 
thought  he  would  walk.  His  responsive  smile 
was  joyful. 

320 


"DR.  POLLY" 

On  Thursday  Polly  came  in  for  a  minute. 

"It  was  n't  bad,  was  it?"  she  laughed. 

"Not  a  bit,"  he  answered  merrily.  " There 
was  n't  a  thing  to  dread,  not  a  single  thing! 
It  was  beautiful." 

In  the  afternoon  his  mother  and  Dorothy 
came  to  see  him.  His  mother's  eyes  were  full 
of  tears  when  she  kissed  him.  He  did  not  see 
why,  for  he  was  getting  well  fast.  He  did  not 
feel  like  crying,  he  wanted  to  laugh. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  Miss  Fleming  sur- 
prised him  with  a  flying  call  and  a  box  of  red 
roses  and  ferns.  He  did  not  keep  many  of  the 
flowers  for  himself;  he  persuaded  Polly  to 
carry  them  to  the  other  patients.  And  then 
he  picked  out  the  very  prettiest  buds  that 
were  left  in  his  vase  and  coaxed  her  to  take 
them  downstairs. 

Those  were  happy  days  for  Doodles.  Every- 
body was  so  kind.  Polly  spent  many  an  hour 
at  his  side,  talking,  telling  stories,  or  singing. 
His  mother  and  Blue  came  once  a  week,  and 
the  Gaylords  and  the  Flemings  frequently. 
And  at  the  bedtime  hour,  if  Polly  were  not 
there,  Miss  Eden  would  tell  him  wonderful 
fairy  tales,  often  repeating  his  favorite  one, 
321 


DOODLES 

of  which  he  never  tired,  —  about  "King  Inge- 
wall's  daughter"  who  ferried  the  river  on  the 
backs  of  her  "little  grey  geese,"  and  who 
finally  came  to  the  end  of  her  troubles,  as 
every  good  princess  should. 

One  tiny  fear,  however,  would  sometimes 
creep  in  to  spoil  his  joy,  —  what  if,  after  all, 
he  should  never  walk!  Thus  far  he  had  been 
lifted  from  bed  to  chair,  and  back  again, 
much  as  before  the  operation,  and  he  won- 
dered when  he  was  to  try  his  feet. 

One  morning  he  was  terrified  to  see  Dr. 
Dudley  with  a  pair  of  crutches.  Were  these 
to  be  the  end  of  his  hopes? 

"Only  for  a  while,  little  man,"  explained 
the  Doctor,  answering  the  pitiful  question  in 
the  boy's  eyes.  "They  will  try  your  strength, 
and  at  the  same  tune  keep  you  from  strain. 
Suppose  we  see  how  they  go!" 

To  the  surprise  of  Doodles,  he  found  that  he 
could  use  the  crutches  very  well,  and  he  went 
across  the  room  and  back,  breathlessly  joyful. 

"May  I  go  down  the  hall?"  he  cried. 

"Certainly.    I  want  you  to  walk  about." 
And  with  a  word  of  caution  to  the  nurse,  he 
waved  the  lad  a  gay  good-bye. 
322 


"DR.  POLLY" 

That  day  held  only  pleasure  for  Doodles. 
Polly  ran  in  several  times.  Dorothy  was 
there  in  the  afternoon,  and  before  she 
went  came  Miss  Fleming  with  Daphne  and 
Blue. 

" Hurrah,  old  feller!  I  knew  you'd  go  it!" 
exclaimed  Blue,  swinging  his  cap  in  a  cheer 
that  threatened  to  be  louder  than  his  brother 
thought  proper,  and  which  his  alarmed  face 
brought  to  a  sudden  hush. 

The  merry  party  shortly  went  away,  leaving 
only  Daphne's  chrysanthemums  and  Doro- 
thy's nut  cakes  and  Blue's  card  to  tell  of  the 
visit.  The  card  pictured  a  pussy  with  a  spring 
tail  that  kept  wagging  whenever  the  card  was 
touched.  The  nurses  all  laughed  when  they 
saw  it,  and  Doodles  had  it  beside  him  while  he 
ate  a  nut  cake,  the  pink  chrysanthemums 
helping  to  make  it  a  gala  feast. 

The  lad  grew  strong  and  stronger.  Several 
tunes  he  stood  upon  his  feet  unaided.  Still 
nothing  was  said  about  his  walking,  and  there 
were  hours  when  he  grew  sick  with  fear,  lest 
he  should  never  leave  his  crutches.  Even  this 
was  better  than  anything  he  had  ever  known; 
but  it  seemed  only  the  mockery  of  walking. 
323 


DOODLES 

Polly  was  the  first  to  notice  that  his  blithe- 
someness  was  fading. 

Dr.  Dudley  came,  one  noon,  as  he  sat  by 
the  window. 

"Want  to  try  it  to-day?"  he  asked  smil- 
ingly. 

At  first  Doodles  did  not  understand.  Then 
he  whitened. 

"You  mean?"  he  faltered. 

"Yes,  now  is  a  good  time!" 

The  boy  arose,  trembling. 

"Don't  be  afraid!  You  can  do  it!" 

Still  Doodles  hesitated.  What  if  he  should 
fail!  His  heart  —  the  Doctor's  heart  would 
break  with  disappointment!  He  looked  be- 
yond Dr.  Dudley  to  where  Miss  Eden  stood 
smiling  him  courage.  His  eyes  passed  along 
to  the  doorway  —  Polly  was  peeping  round 
the  corner!  He  put  a  foot  forward  —  wavered 
—  then  the  other! 

"  He 's  walking !  he 's  walking ! "  piped  Polly. 

While  Doodles  reached  the  Doctor's  arms, 
and  breathed  ecstatically:  — 

"God  has  answered!" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

"AULD  LANG  SYNE" 

ON  the  Saturday  before  New  Year's  Day 
Doodles  went  home.  Giles  Gaylord  and  his 
wife  came  for  him,  and  he  wore  his  Christmas 
presents  from  Miss  Fleming,  a  long  fur  coat 
and  a  cap  to  match.  The  nurses  pressed  about 
him  with  happy  words,  Dr.  Dudley  walked 
beside  him  to  the  door,  while  Miss  Eden  and 
Polly  went  as  far  as  the  car  and  then  scam- 
pered back  to  linger  at  the  window  for  a  last 
good-bye. 

The  air  was  keen,  but  Doodles,  snug  be- 
neath the  robes,  was  warm  as  need  be. 

Giles  drove  fast.  In  a  little  while  they  passed 
the  postoffice  in  Carleton,  then  the  granite 
church  at  Berryville,  and  not  long  afterwards 
the  outskirts  of  Foxford  came  in  sight. 

Doodles  grew  eager  as  familiar  objects  were 
whizzed  by.  When  the  car  turned  into  Cherry- 
Street  he  sat  motionless,  looking  ahead  where 
The  Flatiron  showed  in  the  distance. 
325 


DOODLES 

"I  wonder  if  Granny  will  be  at  the  window 
—  yes,  there  she  is!  And  Mrs.  Jimmy 
George!"  Doodles  waved  his  hand  high  and 
joyously.  Granny  was  waving  both  of  hers! 

The  car  had  slowed,  but  it  was  going  past ! 
Oh,  they  would  turn  round  —  that  was  it ! 
But  no!  They  were  leaving  The  Flatiron 
behind!  He  looked  inquiringly  at  Dorothy. 

"  We  are  going  for  a  little  longer  drive,"  she 
smiled. 

That  was  queer.  Doodles  felt  a  bit  disap- 
pointed. It  was  nice  to  ride  farther,  but  he 
was  in  a  hurry  to  see  his  mother  and  Blue. 
Never  mind,  he  would  be  back  before  long. 
But  on  and  on  they  went. 

"This  is  the  road  to  the  Flemings',  isn't 
it?"  Doodles  asked  at  length. 

Dorothy  assented.  She  put  her  arm  around 
him.  ' '  Are  you  tired? ' ' 

"Not  a  mite,"  he  told  her. 

And  at  that  minute  they  neared  the  house 
on  the  knoll,  and  turned  in  at  the  great  stone 
gateway.  Were  they  going  for  a  call,  Doodles 
asked  himself.  No,  they  whizzed  directly  by 
the  door.  Truly  this  was  a  most  mysterious 
ride! 

326 


"AULD   LANG   SYNE" 

On  a  branch  driveway  was  a  little  bungalow. 
Doodles  had  once  noticed  how  pretty  it  was. 
Straight  towards  the  tiny  house  sped  the 
car.  Why,  there  was  Blue  out  in  front!  And 
his  mother,  with  a  shawl  over  her  head! 
She  ran  down  from  the  veranda.  As  the  car 
stopped  she  was  ready  to  take  Doodles  in  her 
arms. 

"I  can't  go  up  and  down  steps  very  well 
yet,"  he  said. 

There  was  no  need.  Eager  hands  were 
about  him. 

"How  do  you  like  it?"  cried  Blue. 

"What?" 

"Our  new  home,"  Blue  answered,  and 
laughed  to  see  his  brother's  widening  eyes. 
"We've  moved  out  here!"  he  announced. 

"And  not  going  back  to  The  Flatiron?" 
queried  Doodles. 

"Never!"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"Is  n't  that  beautiful!"  exclaimed  the  lad. 

"To  think  of  your  walking  along  just  like 
anybody!"  marveled  Mrs.  Stickney.  "I  can't 
believe  it  yet!"  she  continued  to  Dorothy,  as 
they  hurried  inside. 

Doodles  had  to  tell  how  he  wondered  and 

327 


DOODLES 

wondered  when  they  did  not  stop  at  The  Flat- 
iron,  and  whom  he  saw  at  the  windows,  be- 
fore his  brother  would  be  satisfied. 

After  the  Gaylords  were  gone  Blue  must 
show  the  newcomer  all  over  the  little  bunga- 
low, the  happy  mother  following  them  and 
putting  an  arm  around  each  boy  every  tune 
they  stopped  to  admire  a  new  piece  of  furni- 
ture or  the  view  from  a  window. 

"  The  house  was  intended  for  the  gardener," 
Blue  explained;  "but  he  went  back  to  Scot- 
land before  it  was  done,  and  so  it  was  empty, 
and  Mrs.  Fleming  and  mother  fixed  it  up 
together  that  we'd  come  here  to  live.  I'm 
going  in  to  school  every  day  on  the  trolley, 
and  next  spring  you  are  to  go!" 

"0— h!"  breathed  Doodles  delightedly. 

"And  I  shall  take  my  dinner,  and  be  gone 
all  day!  S'pose  you'll  be  lonesome?" 

"Now,  Blue!"  interposed  his  mother. 

"You  just  wait!"  giggled  Blue.  "Shall 
you,  Doodles?" 

"Why,  I  shall  miss  you  and  mother,  of 
course;  but  I  shan't  mind  being  alone  —  I 
can  walk,  you  know!  Will  mother  carry  her 
dinner,  too?" 

328 


"AULD   LANG  SYNE" 

This  was  what  Blue  had  been  waiting  for. 
"No!"  he  chuckled.  "She  is  n't  going  on  the 
trolley  either !" 

"Don't  tease  him,  Blue!  Tell  him  all  about 
it ! "  laughed  Mrs.  Stickney.  "I  must  go  down 
and  see  to  my  muffins." 

"What  is  it?"  begged  Doodles.  "I  can't 
wait  a  minute  longer!" 

"Mother  has  given  up  working  in  the 
shop!" 

"Oh,  how  lovely!" 

"She's  going  to  do  mending  for  Mrs.  Flem- 
ing, and  make  some  dresses  for  Daphne,  and 
sew  for  the  rest  of  'em,  —  I  do'  know  what,  - 
and  help  out  any  time.  And  they  don't 
charge  us  a  cent  more  here  than  we  paid  at 
The  Flatiron,  and  the  steam  is  brought  right 
down  in  pipes  from  their  house!  The  wires 
come  from  there,  too!  Did  you  see  we've  got 
electricity?" 

No,  Doodles  had  not  noticed,  and  he  must 
be  shown  how  each  fixture  worked. 

"Isn't  it  nice  that  you  found  Daphne?" 
reflected  the  small  boy  happily. 

"Nicer  that  you  made  me  carry  Caruso 
out  to  Miss  Fleming,"  Blue  put  in,  wag- 
329 


DOODLES 

ging  his  head  slowly.   "My,  didn't  I  hate 
to  go!" 

"I  almost  thought  you  didn't  like  it," 
smiled  Doodles. 

Blue  laughed.  "Glad  I  went!  What  if  I 
hadn't!" 

"I  suppose  God  could  have  made  some 
other  way,"  Doodles  pondered.  "But  it  is 
great  as  it  is!  And  I'm  glad  you  told  me  to 
keep  on!" 

Blue  smiled  reminiscently.  "Things  have 
come  out  mighty  good!  Say,  let's  go  down- 
stairs where  we  can  sit  easier!  I  want  to  tell 
you  about  Miss  Fleming." 

"What  about  her?" 

"Oh,  you  wait!  My,  but  you  can  go  down 
all  right,  can't  you!"  admired  Blue,  to  his 
brother's  delight. 

"There!  now  we  can  talk!"  The  boy  settled 
himself  in  a  big  rocker,  after  seeing  Doodles 
comfortable  in  its  mate  opposite. 

' '  Tell  me  quick ! "  begged  the  little  lad,  eager 
for  every  scrap  of  home  news. 

"Well,  you  know  Mr.  Selden  that  Caruso 
belonged  to?    Mrs.  Fleming  told  mother  all 
about  him  and  Eudora  — " 
330 


"AULD  LANG  SYNE" 

"Oh!    was    that    the    one    Miss    Shook 
said?" 

"I  guess  so.  Now  you  keep  still  and  let  me 
talk! 

"You  see,  it  was  this  way,  she  and  Mr. 
Selden  were  dead  in  love  with  each  other, 
and  would  n't  either  of  'em  show  it  a  mite. 
Miss  Fleming  thought  he  did  n't  care  any- 
thing about  her  when  he  went  off  without  say- 
ing a  word ;  and  all  the  while  he  did  n't  dare  let 
on  how  he  felt,  because  she  is  so  rich  and  he 
is  poor  and  has  got  his  way  to  make.  So  that  'a 
what  was  the  matter  with  her  —  Mrs.  Flem- 
ing said  she  just  went  all  to  pieces.  Then  when 
I  carried  the  bird,  and  wrote  him  what  I  did, 
it  made  him  think  perhaps  she  did  like  him. 
And  he  wrote  to  her,  and  she  wrote  to  him, 
and  they  kept  on  writing,  and  they  both 
found  out  how  it  was,  and  he  proposed,  and 
now  they're  engaged  and  going  to  be  mar- 
ried!" 

"0— h!"  beamed  Doodles. 

"I  do'  know  when,  but  he's  comin'  home 

next  spring.  Miss  Fleming  don't  care  a  rap  if 

he  is  poor,  and  any  of  'em  don't ;  they  say  he  '11 

make  piles  o'  money  pretty  soon,  because  he 

331 


DOODLES 

plays  so  beautifully.  And  they  are  all  so  glad 
she's  got  well,  and  it's  come  out  so  fine,  it 
seems  as  if  they  could  n't  do  enough  for  us  - 
'specially  for  you." 

" What  have  I  done?" 

Blue  laughed.  ' '  You  sent  me  out  there  with 
Caruso  —  that's  what!" 

"You  carried  him  and  wrote  the  letter 
anyhow!"  declared  Doodles.  "But,  say, 
when  is  he  coming  home?  I  do  want  to  see 
him!  Was  he  real  sick,  the  reason  you  took 
him  over  to  Mr.  Gillespie's?  " 

"No,  only  mopish.  When  I  telephoned  to 
him,  he  said  he  guessed  he  missed  you,  and 
I'd  better  bring  him  there  where  he'd  have 
all  his  birds  for  company  till  you  got  back. 
He  said  to  wrap  him  up  and  fetch  him  right 
along.  I  put  some  newspapers  round  the 
cage,  and  made  some  little  holes  for  breathing 
places,  as  he  told  me,  and  he 's  been  there  ever 
since.  He 's  comin'  in  Monday  anyway,  and 
he's  goin'  to  bring  him  then." 

"Supper's  ready!"  called  Mrs.  Stick- 
ney. 

"This  does  n't  look  much  like  the  old  Flat- 
iron  kitchen,  does  it?"  exulted  Blue. 
332 


"AULD   LANG  SYNE" 

Doodles  shook  his  head  smilingly,  his  mouth 
full  of  egg  salad. 

"Bet  this  came  from  the  Flemings',  did  n't 
it?"  queried  Blue. 

"I  knew  it,"  he  went  on,  after  his  mother's 
assent.  "They're  always  sending  down  some- 
thing or  other.  You  ought  to  have  seen  the 
basket  that  came  the  day  we  moved!  About 
everything  in  it!  I  tell  you,  they're  the  folks 
for  me!" 

"Me  too!"  chimed  in  Doodles.  "But  I 
think  there  could  n't  have  been  anything 
in  that  basket  better  than  these  muffins,"  he 
added,  with  a  loving  glance  across  to  his 
mother. 

"Nobody  can  rout  her  on  cooking,"  de- 
clared Blue. 

"What  children!"  beamed  the  happy 
mother,  as  she  went  to  fetch  a  fresh  supply 
of  the  cakes. 

The  back  door-bell  rang,  and  the  boys 
heard  a  hearty  thank-you. 

The  door  shut,  and  Blue  ran  out  to  the 
kitchen. 

"Ice   cream  and  oranges!"   he   shouted. 
"My,  what  will  they  bring  next!" 
333 


DOODLES 

The  Fleming  sisters  came  for  a  brief  visit 
in  the  evening;  but  they  were  soon  away, 
and  lights  were  out  early  in  the  bunga- 
low. 

Sunday  morning  it  was  snowing  fast. 
There  was  a  private  telephone  connected 
with  the  house  on  the  knoll,  and  after  break- 
fast Mrs.  Fleming  rang  to  ask  if  anything 
were  needed.  Later  Daphne  chatted  with 
Blue.  Otherwise  there  was  no  word  from  out- 
side all  day;  but  it  was  a  happy  household, 
there  was  enough  to  talk  about  and  to  be 
glad  over  to  keep  anybody  from  being  lone- 
some. 

The  next  sunrise  promised  a  rare  New 
Year's  Day,  —  white  underfoot,  blue  over- 
head, and  just  cold  enough  for  the  season.  An 
air  of  mystery  pervaded  the  little  house  on  the 
side  drive.  Doodles  had  felt  it  vaguely  the  day 
before,  and  it  suddenly  grew  into  something 
more  defined  when  Blue  awoke  him  with  a 
"Happy  New  Year,  old  feller!  Got  to  start 
early  this  morning!" 

' '  To-day  is  a  holiday, ' '  observed  the  younger 
lad  a  little  later. 

"Bet  you  it  is!"  shouted  Blue,  wagging 
334 


"AULD  LANG  SYNE" 

his  head  in  the  way  Doodles  knew  —  it  al- 
ways meant  a  secret  that  ached  to  be  let 
out! 

What  could  it  be!  He  asked  no  questions, 
but  kept  his  eyes  wide  open.  What  fun  to  feel 
a  lovely  secret  ahead!  There  were  messengers 
from  the  big  house  all  the  forenoon,  but  Doo- 
dles could  only  guess  at  their  errands.  No- 
thing wonderful  happened.  Daphne  brought 
down  a  book  for  him,  a  beautiful  book  of 
verses  and  pictures,  and  one  for  Blue  about 
some  gallant  knights.  But  Blue  did  not  stop 
long  to  look  at  books.  He  cleaned  all  the 
paths  about  the  house,  and  then  surprised  his 
brother  by  saying  that  he  was  going  into 
town. 

"For  what?"  cried  Doodles,  curiosity  sud- 
denly thwarting  his  determination  to  appear 
blind  to  all  mysterious  doings.  But  he  gained 
nothing. 

"Oh,  a  little  business,  kiddie!"  Blue  an- 
swered in  what  was  meant  to  be  a  careless 
tone,  but  which  went  wide  of  its  aim  and  only 
mystified  Doodles  to  a  high  degree. 

When  he  returned  home,  his  mother  had  an 
immediate  errand  in  the  kitchen,  where  he  at 
335 


DOODLES 

once  joined  her,  leaving  the  small  boy  to  spec- 
ulate on  the  possible  import  of  the  trip. 

Afterwards  Blue  had  several  telephone 
messages,  which  he  answered  only  by  pleased 
phrases,  which  meant  nothing  to  the  listener. 

It  was  a  tantalizing,  bewitching  forenoon, 
full  of  the  wildest  anticipations  and  the  joy- 
fulest  hopes. 

Soon  after  dinner  Mrs.  Stickney  suggested 
that  Doodles  go  upstairs  and  have  a  nap ;  so, 
although  he  was  not  a  bit  sleepy,  he  went 
without  a  word,  guessing  that  they  wished 
him  out  of  the  way.  He  had  made  up  his 
mind  that  the  Flemings  were  going  to  have  a 
party  in  the  evening,  to  which  they  were  in- 
vited; yet  why  so  much  mystery  about  it? 
He  was  no  sooner  established  on  his  little  bed 
than  he  heard  doors  opening  and  shutting 
downstairs,  and  the  sound  of  men's  feet  and 
men's  voices.  He  was  sure,  too,  that  Eudora 
Fleming  was  there.  All  this  pushed  away  his 
conjecture  about  the  party.  He  gave  up  try- 
ing to  guess. 

After  a  while  there  was  less  bustle  below, 
and  Doodles  shut  his  eyes.  It  was  quite  dusky 
when  he  opened  them.  Blue  was  there. 

336 


"AULD   LANG   SYNE" 

"Hello,  kiddie!" 

"Hello!"  laughed  Doodles.  "I  went  to 
sleep  after  all.  I  thought  I  should  n't." 

"Good  thing!  You'll  feel  livelier  this 
evening." 

So  it  was  going  to  be  this  evening !  Then  he 
should  know  in  a  little  while!  He  longed  to  go 
downstairs  and  see  what  was  or  had  been 
going  on;  but  Blue  sat  as  if  he  expected  to 
stay.  So  Doodles  settled  himself  comfortably 
for  a  chat. 

"What  do  you  s'pose  Daphne  told  me  this 
morning?" 

"Give  it  up!  What?" 

"She  says  she's  going  to  marry  you  when 
she  is  twenty!" 

"Crackety!"  exploded  Blue. 

"You  don't  mind,  do  you?"  Doodles's  tone 
was  anxious. 

"Mind  what?" 

"Why,  that!  You'd  just  as  lief  marry  her, 
would  n't  you?" 

Blue's  face  was  bright  with  fun.  "Maybe  I 
would,  and  maybe  I  would  n't.  It's  too  soon 
to  decide." 

"Well,  she  wants  to,  because  you  found  her 

337 


DOODLES 

and  took  her  away  from  those  dreadful  folks. 

She  thinks  you  are  the  nicest  boy  that  ever 

was!" 

" Perhaps  she  won't  when  she's  twenty." 
"Yes,  she  will!    She's  true-blue,  just  like 


you 


Blue  began  to  whistle.  Then  his  eyes 
twinkled,  and  the  whistling  was  cut  short. 

"Doodles,  I  think  you'd  be  a  better 
match  for  Daphne,  —  you  are  nearer  her 
age." 

"Oh,  no!"  cried  Doodles.  "I'd  rather 
marry  Polly  —  Polly  Dudley!" 

"Cracketywhack!  You've  got  ahead  o' 
me!  Picked  out  a  wife  already!"  Blue 
laughed  himself  almost  out  of  his  chair. 

Doodles  laughed  a  little  in  sympathy,  yet 
he  said :  — 

"I  don't  see  anything  very  funny  about 
that!  If  I  like  Polly  and  Polly  likes  me, 
why  can't  we  marry  each  other  when  we  get 
old?" 

"How  do  you  know  she  likes  you?" 

"She  said  she  did." 

Blue  went  off  in  another  spasm.  "Did  you 
ask  her?"  he  gurgled. 

338 


"AULD  LANG  SYNE" 

"No,  she  just  said  so!" 

" She's  a  good  deal  older 'n  you,"  Blue 
objected. 

"What  difference  does  that  make?" 

"I  do'  know,  but  the  boys  are  older  than 
the  girls  --  'most  always." 

"I  don't  care  anything  about  age,"  re- 
turned Doodles  comfortably,  "and  I  don't 
think  Polly  will." 

"Come  to  supper,  boys!" 

They  sprang  to  their  feet.  Polly  and 
Daphne  were  instantly  forgotten!  Doodles 
was  eager  to  see  downstairs. 

He  stopped  when  he  reached  the  foot  of  the 
flight  —  vines  and  flowers  seemed  every- 
where! 

"How  do  you  like  it,  old  man? "  Blue  could 
not  wait. 

"Beautiful!  It's  just  like  fairyland  —  or 
heaven!"  he  said  softly. 

"I  knew  you  would!" 

"Who  did  it?" 

"The  Flemings!  Trimmed  up  for  New 
Year's!  That's  why  we  tucked  you  off  up- 
stairs," laughed  Blue. 

"I  thought  so! "  chuckled  Doodles.  So  this 

339 


DOODLES 

was  it!    What   a  lovely  New  Year's  sur- 
prise! 

Blue  had  to  show  Doodles  all  through  the 
rooms,  and  point  out  the  most  elaborate  dec- 
orations, before  he  would  let  him  sit  down  to 
supper.  Then  both  boys  were  too  excited 
and  full  of  talk  to  eat.  It  was  a  plain  meal, 
just  bread  and  milk  and  apple  sauce;  but 
Doodles  ate  happily  without  question,  and 
he  and  Blue  were  soon  off  again  to  see  the 
flowers. 

"Now  we'd  better  go  and  fix  up  a  little," 
Blue  suggested  presently.  "Somebody  might 
come  for  a  New  Year's  call,  you  know." 

So  up  the  stairs  they  climbed,  and  returned 
in  their  Sunday  suits.  Maybe  the  Flemings 
were  to  be  there,  Doodles  thought. 

"Say,"  broke  out  Blue,  "did  I  tell  you  that 
Eudora  wants  you  to  sing  in  the  choir  at  St. 
Bartholomew's?  " 

The  small  boy  widened  his  eyes  with  a  sur- 
prised "No." 

"Well,  that 's  the  programme!  Just  as  soon 
as  you  get  a  little  stronger,  she  says.    The 
soprano  boy  that  sings  solos  is  going  out  of 
town,  and  you  can  have  his  place." 
340 


"AULD   LANG   SYNE" 

"Oh,  I'd  love  it!"  The  brown  eyes  grew 
luminous.  "To  sing  for  God!  To  give  his 
messages  to  the  people!  I  am  so  glad!" 

Blue  gazed  admiringly  at  his  brother.  "I 
did  n't  know  as  you'd  dare  —  I  believe  you 
would  n't  be  afraid  to  sing  at  the  Church  of 
the  Good  Shepherd  itself!" 

"Of  course  not!  Why  should  I?" 

Blue  laughed.  "I  do'  know!  I  should!  — 
There's  an  auto!  Come  on!" 

Blue  dashed  to  the  front  door,  Doodles 
following  closely.  Who  could  be  coming  in  a 
car  except  — 

Blue  had  the  door  wide  open.  The  lights 
shone  out  brilliantly.  Dorothy  was  on  the 
steps,  but  who  — ?  why,  Grandpa  Moon  was 
with  her !  Behind  them  was  Tillie  Shook,  and 
then  Giles  Gaylord  and  —  it  was!  it  was 
Granny  O'Donnell! 

Doodles  let  go  Grandpa  Moon's  hand  to  be 
clasped  in  Granny's  arms. 

"Me  blissid  b'y!  I  niver  thought  me  old 
eyes  wud  see  ye  on  th'  dear  little  two  fcets  o' 
yees,  as  sthrong  as  annybody!  Thanks  be  to 
th' good  God!" 

Through  the  talk  sounded  a  motor  horn. 

341 


DOODLES 

Another  car  was  coming  up  the  driveway.  It 
stopped.  Blue  opened  the  door.  Doodles 
looked  beyond  Granny  —  there  were  the 
Jimmy  Georges,  and  others  whom  he  well 
knew! 

"  To  think  o'  your  walkin' ! "  wondered  Mrs. 
Homan.  "  Let 's  see  you  do  it !  Land !  I  never 
'd  'a'  b'lieved  it!  When  I  heard  — " 

New  arrivals  cut  short  the  sentence,  and 
Thomas  Fitzpatrick  and  Joseph  Sitnitsky 
came  up  to  shake  hands  with  Doodles. 

Right  in  the  midst  of  the  chatter  the  small 
boy  spied  somebody  in  the  hall,  somebody 
carrying  a  covered  cage,  and  Sandy  Gillespie 
and  Caruso  were  receiving  a  glad  welcome 
when  Blue  reached  them. 

"Th'  wee  birdie  is  a'  right  noo,"  the  old 
Scotchman  smiled  in  answer  to  Doodles's 
question.  "An'  he'll  sing  for  ye  sune,  he'll 
be  sae  fu'  o'  joy  to  see  his  bonnie  laddie 
again." 

The  boy's  fear  that  Caruso  would  not  know 
him  quickly  faded,  for  with  a  delighted  whirr 
the  mocker  flew  to  his  top  perch,  eager  for  the 
accustomed  caress  from  his  master's  cheek. 
It  was  a  pretty  thing  to  see,  and  the  others 
342 


"AULD  LANG  SYNE" 

crowded  round,  everybody  talking  to  every- 
body else,  while  Doodles  and  his  pet,  regard- 
ing none  but  each  other,  exchanged  their  soft 
greetings. 

The  lad  had  but  just  returned  from  placing 
the  bird  in  a  quiet  corner,  when  the  Flem- 
ing car,  which  had  been  to  the  station  and 
had  stopped  at  The  Flatiron  to  complete 
its  load,  deposited  its  passengers  at  the  en- 
trance. 

"Why — y — ee!  Christarchus!"  piped  the 
astonished  Doodles;  and  after  that  he  would 
scarcely  have  been  surprised  if  the  President 
had  appeared  at  the  door  to  wish  him  a 
Happy  New  Year. 

It  was  a  very  informal  party,  but  merri- 
ment and  joy  were  there  in  full  measure,  and 
Doodles  had  to  walk  across  the  room  a  great 
many  times  to  satisfy  some  of  the  still  incred- 
ulous guests. 

"It's  the  wonderfullest  thing  I  ever  heard 
of ! "  declared  Mrs.  Jimmy  George.  "I  s'posed 
—  Evangeline,  don't  you  go  into  that  dinin'- 
room!  Yes,  you  may  peek!  —  Don't  it  look 
just  beautiful!" 

Doodles  turned.   He  had  been  so  engaged 

343 


DOODLES 

with  his  friends  that  he  had  had  no  time  for 
anything  beside.  It  was  "just  beautiful,"  as 
Mrs.  George  had  said,  —  the  table  loaded 
with  dainties,  the  green  garlands,  the  bril- 
liant blossoms,  the  dazzling  lights  overhead! 
Surely  the  house  on  the  knoll  had  given  of  its 
best  for  the  little  bungalow  feast. 

"I  wonder  who  thought  of  all  this  first," 
said  Doodles. 

Blue  was  passing,  and  heard. 

"Ask  her!"  he  laughed,  waving  an  arm 
towards  the  blushing  Mrs.  Jimmy. 

"Pshaw,  I  did  n't  do  nothin'!"  denied  that 
lady.  "I  happened  to  think 't  would  be  nice 
if  we  could,  and  I  asked  'em  to  come,  as  soon 's 
I  found  out  't  would  be  agreeable  to  your 
mother  —  that's  all  I  did!  I  was  for  havin' 
us  bring  the  refreshments;  but  Miss  Flemin' 
she  said  no,  she'd  'tend  to  that,  an'  she  did 
—  my,  I  sh'd  think  she  did! 

"You  see,"  -  lowering  her  voice,  —  "the 
truth  is,  a  lady  (I  won't  mention  no  names) 
but  she  said  to  me,  one  day,  'I  s'pose  now  the 
Stickneys  have  got  so  much  money  and  live  in 
such  a  swell  house,  they  won't  have  no  use  for 
their  old  friends.'  And  I  just  up  an'  out  with, 

344 


"AULD  LANG  SYNE" 

'  They  will  too !  They  ain't  no  such  folks  as  to 
turn  their  backs  on  tried-an'-true  neighbors!' 
That  was  what  started  me  t'  thinkin'  o'  this, 
and  I  told  Jimmy  't  I  'd  put  it  through  if  only 
to  prove  things  to  her.  So  here  we  be,  an'  I 
guess  she 's  satisfied  all  right !  I  invited  every 
blessed  one,  and  they'd  all  been  mighty  glad 
to  come,  but  some  could  n't." 

After  luncheon,  when  everybody  was  in 
full  content,  Giles  Gay  lord  called  for  silence. 

"My  dear  friends,"  he  began,  "this  honor 
ought  to  be  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  one  to 
whom  we  are  indebted  for  the  pleasure  of  the 
evening;  but  as  she  would  n't  take  it,  and  I 
did  n't  succeed  in  sneaking  out  of  it,  here  I 
am!  I  think  I  should  have  run  away  during 
luncheon,  as  has  sometimes  been  done  in  the 
face  of  a  dreaded  speech;  but  one  can't  leave 
his  friends  in  the  lurch,  and  we  are  certainly 
warm  friends  —  warmer,  perhaps,  because  we 
are  Flatiron  friends.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  all 
of  us,  with  two  exceptions,  have,  at  one  time 
or  another,  dwelt  beneath  its  hospitable  roof. 
So  now,  in  behalf  of  The  Flatiron,  I  present 
to  Master  Doodles  this  new  home  for  Ca- 
ruso." 

345 


DOODLES 

He  lifted  the  cloth  which  had  hidden  from 
sight  a  large,  handsome  mocking-bird  cage. 

Everybody  turned  to  Doodles,  who  stood 
transfixed  with  astonishment  and  delight. 

"Speech!  speech!"  was  the  call. 

The  boy  looked  at  his  brother  with  pleading 
eyes.  ' '  You ! "  he  whispered . 

Blue  smilingly  shook  his  head. 

"I  am  so  surprised  and  happy,"  Doodles 
began,  "I  don't  know  what  to  say!  But  I 
thank  you  ever  and  ever  so  much,  and  I  know 
Caruso  will.  It  is  just  like  you  to  do  it!  You 
have  always  done  such  nice  things  for  us. 
You  can't  imagine  what  a  comfort  you  have 
been  to  me!  I  guess  there  are  lots  of  people 
that  need  comforting,  or  God  would  n't  have 
told  us  to  do  it.  I've  never  done  much.  Blue 
and  Caruso  have  had  to  do  mine  for  me.  But 
now  I  can  walk,  and  Caruso  has  got  such  a 
beautiful  home  he'll  sing  more  than  ever,  and 
we  shall  comfort  all  the  folks  we  can  just  as 
long  as  we  live." 

This  was  followed  by  such  applause  that 
Doodles  wanted  to  hide  his  head;  but  he  only 
blushed  and  smiled  to  everybody. 

"Darlin'!"  whispered  Mrs.  Homan,  wiping 

346 


"AULD  LANG  SYNE" 

her  eyes.  —  " He's   a  blissid   little  angil!" 
breathed  Granny  O'Donnell. 

Mr.  Gillespie  brought  the  bird,  and  deftly 
put  him  into  his  new  cage. 

With  a  quick,  comprehensive  glance, 
Caruso  flirted  his  wings  in  joy,  and  let  go  a 
little  carol. 

At  its  close,  softly,  very  softly,  the  old 
Scotchman  began  to  whistle  "Auld  Lang 
Syne." 

The  bird  stood  motionless,  with  cocked 
head,  and  then  joined  in  the  air,  which  almost 
at  once  he  was  carrying  on  by  himself. 

The  room  was  breathless  to  its  close,  when 
such  a  storm  of  praise  broke  forth  as  would 
have  frightened  a  shy  singer.  But  not 
Caruso !  He  calmly  descended  to  his  new  food 
cup  and  pounced  upon  the  tidbit  which  was 
always  his  reward  after  a  successful  perform- 
ance. 

Truly  Sandy  Gillespie  had  been  a  faithful 
teacher  in  the  short  time  that  the  mocker  had 
been  with  him!  It  was  his  New  Year's  present 
to  Doodles. 

As  soon  as  the  clapping  ceased,  somebody 
—  Blue   thought  afterwards  it  was  Leona 
347 


DOODLES 

Montgomery  —  started  the  song  again,  and  a 
score  of  voices  caught  it  up  with  a  burst  of 
melody. 

' '  Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  never  brought  to  mind? 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
And  days  of  auld  lang  syne? 
For  auld  lang  syne,  my  dear, 

For  auld  lang  syne, 
We'll  tak'  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet, 
For  auld  lang  syne." 


THE   END 


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in  the  Outlook. 

"  '  Phil '  Kirkwood  —  '  Otherwise  Phyllis  '  —  is  a 
creature  to  welcome  to  our  hearth,  not  to  our  shelf, 
for  she  does  not  belong  among  the  things  that  are 
doomed  to  become  musty."  —  Boston  Herald. 

"  Phyllis  is  a  healthy,  hearty,  vivacious  young  woman 
of  prankish  disposition  and  inquiring  mind.  .  .  . 
About  the  best  example  between  book  covers  of  the 
American  girl  whose  general  attitude  toward  mankind 
is  one  of  friendliness." — Boston  Advertiser. 


With  frontispiece  by  Gibson.     Square  crown  8vo. 
$1.35  net. 

HOUGHTON  T^S-  BOSTON 

MIFFLIN  /SW  AN° 

COMPANY  ralE)  NEW  YORK 


OVERLAND  RED 


By  HARRY  HERBERT  KNIBBS 


"Overland  Red  is  a  sort  of  mixture  of  Owen 
Wister's  Virginian  and  David  Harum."  — 

Chicago  Evening  Post. 

"  Perfectly  clean  and  decent  and  at  the  same 
time  full  of  romantic  adventure."  — 

Chicago  Tribune. 

"  A  story  tingling  with  the  virile  life  of  the  great 
West  in  the  days  when  a  steady  eye  and  a  six- 
shooter  were  first  aids  to  the  law, '  Overland  Red.' 
should  be  a  widely  read  piece  of  fiction."  — 

Boston  Globe. 

"A  pulsing,  blood-warming  romance  of  Califor- 
nia hills,  mines,  and  ranges  is  'Overland  Red.' 
...  A  book  that  should  be  sufficient  to  any 
author's  pride."  —  New  York  World. 

Illustrated  in  color.    Crown  8vo,  $1.35  net. 


HOUGHTON  r  BOSTON 

M1FFLIN 
COMPANY  ll  NEW  YORK 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


ALJG  2  6   19T 


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